Vapor Trail
by 5R
Summary: AU. Peyton and Brooke are best friends and college roommates. What will happen when Brooke's arrogant boyfriend, Lucas, and her best friend collide? Leyton! with a touch of Brucas, a definite possibility of either some Naley or Brathan.
1. Wash Away the Sins

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters

**Vapor Trail**

Peyton breathed in the sticky air around her deeply as she turned the knob of the shower to the off position and stood motionless for a moment lost in thought, her eyes staring at the blue tiles peeling off the walls of her tiny shower. As though resigning herself to leave the comfort of the cleansing haven of her shower, she pushed the heavy glass door open with a prolonged squeak, immediately letting a wave of steam billow from the confined space and leaving five prints from her fingers and thumb in the mist on the shower door. The air was so palpable she could barely see the door of the bathroom four feet in front of her. She liked her showers hot, or rather searing; she seemed to gain some pleasure burning away the sins of the past day. She grabbed her violently purple towel from the rack and pressed her face deeply into its fibers, forcing her eyes into the darkness. She dried her dripping body gingerly, her fingers lingering on the scar above her left knee. Feeling the pink tissue under her touch, she winced slightly as the memories of that day in the school flashed in her mind but she dismissed them just as readily as they had come. This was her nightly ritual, every night, every single night.

She wrapped the towel around her body and took a step towards the sink. Looking into the mist-covered mirror she wiped away the distorting water droplets and stared into the cracked glass, meeting her lean reflection for a moment. Her blonde curls were still sodden from the water, and yet did not hang lank or thin, but seemed just as becoming as always. She stared forcefully into the glass and watched as gentle beads of sweat threatened to form on her arched brow line and upper lip. The humid air of the bathroom was beginning to stifle her, so she reached for the shining brass doorknob to escape from the sauna, still clinging tightly to the towel barely covering her trim body.

She was greeted by the anticipated rush of cool air as she pulled the door open dramatically revealing the rather less anticipated sight of her roommate half sitting half lying on their sitting room sofa, wrapped up in the tense arms of her jackass of a boyfriend, Lucas. She was apparently cooing softly into his ear as he smirked arrogantly in the other direction. Then his eyes found the towering figure of Peyton emerging from her shower and his expression changed with the rapidity of a gasp of air. Brooke had not noticed her roommate's new presence, as she was facing away from the bathroom door and being much too involved in the "activity" at hand. Peyton's initial shock soon evaporated as she laughed inwardly to herself. Lucas' hooded eyes met Peyton's and they stared at each other for a moment before Peyton rolled her eyes significantly and gave him a sardonic smile, which he returned only too readily. Brooke was still kissing and tugging at his earlobe all while giggling earnestly, completely oblivious to the glances between her boyfriend and her best friend. Lucas' eyes never left Peyton's form, as he seemed to be less than interested in the gorgeous brunette he had pinned against the couch. Peyton squinted questioningly at his lingering stare, severe eyes boring into her, but dismissed her doubts with a slight shake of the head, deciding to continue down the hallway to her room without disturbing the happy couple.

For a moment, only a moment, perhaps less than a moment, she thought she had seen something behind the sharp stare of his clear blue eyes. An insecure feeling she could not describe seemed to sink into her stomach. Was it attraction? No, no of course not, it was Lucas Scott, the womanizing shell of a man, no of course not. She pulled an oversized t-shirt over her damp head, and put on some angry, screaming music that could surely be heard in the sitting room. Chuckling slightly to herself, she crawled under the covers and waited for sleep to over take her mind, willing her thoughts off of the blonde youth currently devouring her best friend's face. Yet the unidentifiable feeling lingered and could not be dismissed, only pushed further down to the pit of her stomach where it would have to stay, for now.

Lucas watched her walk away from him down the dark hallway to the end door that he knew was her room. He had never been in her room before; in fact, he had never seen anyone enter her room besides her. It seemed to be an extension of her conscious, just as baffling as the rest of Peyton Sawyer. She hated him; he knew that, he was perfectly aware of her less than affectionate feelings towards him. Still, seeing her standing there with only a towel wrapped around her body, the silent moment they had just shared, and those legs, those damn legs. He shuddered pleasurably at the thought. Brooke thinking that his reaction was to her grasping hands, smiled coyly up at his face, still focused on the door that Peyton had disappeared behind only a moment ago. "Lucas?" she groaned questioningly, and his attention again fixed on the girl beneath his muscular frame. He smiled roughly down at her but could not seem to meet her eyes. She took this as conformation that his want for her remained, and continued to kiss him hungrily. He returned her kiss with renewed vigor and ache. She would never suspect that his mind's eye still lurked on curly golden locks and a pair of legs that seemed to go on for miles.


	2. No Use Faking It

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your amazing reviews; they definitely gave me motivation to finish the next chapter. Hope you enjoy reading!**

Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own One Tree Hill or any of its characters, nor am I associated with Pop-tarts brand, or General Motors.

The high-pitched whining of her alarm clock was the first noise to greet her as Peyton grudgingly opened her eyes to greet the bands of sun running across her bed from the window next to her. Groaning loudly she squinted her eyes against the thought of rolling out of bed. She reached blindly over to her nightstand and attempted to whack the "off" button on the alarm clumsily, as though swatting a pestering fly. Reveling in the now heavy silence of her room, Peyton rolled over under the covers and seriously contemplated spending the entire day just sleeping peacefully. Then the thought of Brooke bounding into her room complaining that she slept utterly too much of her life away, gave her the motivation to pull herself out from the sheltering relaxation of her comforter. 'This is not going to be a good day', she though miserably before heading to the bathroom down the hall. She turned the spotless brass handle of the door while pushing slightly against it. It did not yield. Vaguely confused by the intrusion on her morning routine she tried opening the door again only to be defeated. She let her head fall heavily against the wood, 'much too early for knocking' she though sleepily while a half-hearted groan escaped her throat.

Suddenly the door swung away from her and she found herself quite off balance. Falling drunkenly into the bathroom, a swift security captured her body as a pair of solid arms caught the stumbling girl, eyes still half closed, toppling into him. Peyton gasped at the shock of finding herself collapsing forward into a broad chest. Her heart hammering riotously, her alarm only increased at the realization of having been caught in _his_ arms and quickly erected herself. Her eyes now wide and gaping at the sight of a tussle-haired Lucas, she stared a few moments before pushing him roughly away from her. "Are you always this poised in the morning?" he asked, half-smiling at the look of incredulity on her face. She made no answer but pushed him brusquely out the door, the feel of dense muscles against her palm causing her to pull her hand away from his inviting body as though burnt. With a last glare in his general direction, she shut the door rudely after him.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged with her hair in perfect ringlets and seamless makeup. Retreating again into her room she wandered into her spacious closet and chose a pair of acid jeans and a grunge band t-shirt to sport around that day. After giving herself a quick once-over in the long mirror hung on her door, she headed towards the cramped kitchen only to find Lucas sitting casually at the small wooden table, munching away at his breakfast while staring at his own hand, clearly lost in thought. Peyton's eyebrows creased at the sight of him, spoon half way to his mouth. "That's my cereal", she stated in a clearly irritated voice. "Huh?" he asked confused, looking up suddenly from his thoughts, and staring instead at the girl standing with arms crossed accusatorily in front of him. "That's my cereal" she repeated. "Oh sorry, I feel absolutely terrible now. Miss one meal and you'd probably pass out from hunger pains," he said with a trivial grin playing across his lips. "Why are you always such a jackass?" She stated more than asked while narrowing her eyes at the boy sitting smirking at her. "Why are you always such a bitch?" he retorted as the grin spread further across his face. Peyton leaned carelessly against the doorframe. "Maybe because I'm always around you", she snapped back. "Hey, it's not my fault you find me so irresistible and always have to be around me. I simply live my life, you on the other hand always seem to barge into the room a few minutes later", Lucas said jokingly. Sneering faintly, Peyton replied, "Funny, really that's adorable that you would think that. But maybe the reason I always seem to be in the same room is because you're 'living your life' in my apartment." she air quoted while laughing coldly at his smugness.

Peyton waited for Lucas' retort for a moment before walking over to cabinets and grabbing a luridly colored box of "breakfast" food. Seeing the shining foil packet she was pulling from the box, he commented, "Pop-tarts? Really?" while an almost genuine smile graced his face. "Breakfast of champions" Peyton replied flatly without turning to meet his gaze. Lucas took the opportunity to run his eyes shamelessly up and down her body without the threatening stare he would have had to endure from her had she been turned around. 'Those legs of hers are so incredible', he thought with a lustful air before reluctantly tearing his eyes from her body before she noticed his admiring gaze. She ripped the glistening packet with her teeth as she sidled into the sitting room, absently looking around for her bag and keys.

"Where's Brooke this morning?" Peyton yelled back to the kitchen. "Oh she needed to sleep in a couple hours," replied a voice that was too near to have come from the kitchen. Lucas now stood in the narrow doorway with both arms raised above his head, offhandedly grasping the wooden frame, with a look of frank satisfaction plastered on his face and eyes fixed on the blonde now looking at him with confusion. "She needed to?" she asked skeptically. He started chuckling haughtily to himself and averted his eyes toward the ceiling before saying "Yeah we were up most of the night…exerting ourselves. She was pretty spent by the end. She definitely needs some remedial sleep" he finished slyly. "All right, all right, you can stop talking now" Peyton cried while shaking her golden ringlets and pressing her palms forcefully into her eyes, trying to push back the unsettling images of her roommate and the boy now standing in front of her from coming to mind. She had the distinct impression that he was trying to get a rouse out of her by revealing such detail about his night. "I'm sorry for Brooke, and her…um _yelping, _waking you up, twice, no sorry, three times last night," he continued, quite unabashed. Peyton's mouth dropped in sheer horror at the explicitly fine points of his story. "But then…" he started again, now slowly stepping toward the mortified girl rapt with unwilling attention, "…you were probably hoping I'd slip into your bed once I was done with Brooke".

"I'm late" she said as more of an escape than an actual fact, grabbing her keys from the top of the television and throwing her bag over her shoulder. Lucas, still laughing earnestly at her reaction, watched her frantic attempt to leave the room so hurriedly. He leaned his shoulder gracefully against the frame of the door as he asked, "You want a ride? We are going to the same class, ya know". Peyton shot a look of contempt over her shoulder before sneering "Yeah, that's what I want", and quickly made her way out the door to her gorgeous vintage Mercury. Lucas couldn't help but smile broadly watching her storm out of her own apartment, even though no one was there to see his secure smirk. He hadn't planned to expose so much detail. It wasn't as though he enjoyed provoking her, 'okay, that's a complete lie' he admitted to himself. He loved seeing that blaze of fire in her eyes anytime she was heated, especially when she was angry with him. The fact that he could needle her into such a passionate state of emotion gave him a dizzy sense of gratification, and damn was he good at it.

Ten minutes after their little confrontation, Lucas strolled into the jammed lecture hall searching for a certain frizzed-out blonde. His friend Tim walked with him, slightly in Lucas' wake, prattling on about another drunken encounter from the night before. His keen blue eyes spotted Peyton in one of the middle rows, her head bent over her notepad and ear-buds plugged into her skull. An evil prospect beginning to form in his head, Lucas made a beeline for her, as Tim struggled on behind him. Sketching out her understandable frustrations with herself at the moment, and blasting a great retro punk band in her ears, Peyton didn't notice a broad hand pull out the chair to her right and a much too familiar body slide seductively next to her. Only when she caught the scent of his aftershave did she look up from her work. Her lips parted slightly as a gasp of astonishment and fury skimmed through her thin mouth. 'How dare he even come near me', she thought furiously while the beat of her music pounded her head. Quickly pulling out her ear-buds, she asked in a very threatening whisper "What the hell are you doing?!" He made no reply, but Tim, being neither as polished nor as smart as Lucas, said "Peyton Sawyer…" in what he clearly thought was a dangerously suave tone. She raised half an eyebrow before turning her entire body slightly away from the boys. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd fazed her in the least.

40 minutes into a deathly dull lecture about the sociological aspect of nonverbal communication, Peyton couldn't say that having Lucas half a foot away was very distracting. In fact, she was at least as disconnected from the situation as she always was. 'Maybe he really doesn't faze me' she thought while feigning attention to her professor. Slowly she felt a cunning warmth creep up her thigh. Looking down fearfully, she saw Lucas' hand sliding its way confidently up her leg. Too stunned to act or to even think in that moment, she let her breath catch audibly in her throat and her eyes close before any possible reaction could form in her mind. Noticing her response, he leaned deeply into her shoulder and brought his supple mouth inches away from the rim of her ear. His uninvited touch was electrifying. The feeling of his sweltering breath against her skin gave her the jolt back to reality she desperately needed. "Get off me you creeper!" Peyton finally cried, turning her head to meet his arrogant sneer and pushing him roughly away from her. Lucas laughed loudly, a little too loudly. "Mr. Scott, Ms. Sawyer, do we have a problem?" the professor's voice echoed in the room as the sea of heads swiveled in their direction. "It's…um…I…he…" Peyton stuttered, her face flustered with the entire situation now. "Nope, we're good" Lucas cut in. He was always good under pressure. "Well then I'm assuming you're volunteering for a quick demonstration of theory" inquired the professor, raising his unkempt white eyebrows. "Absolutely" Lucas replied with fake enthusiasm, "well why don't you two come on down to the front of the class" the professor directed.

Lucas raised himself from his chair, and sensing she was either too shocked or too embarrassed to move, he grabbed under her arm to pull her with him. He sauntered down the steps of the hall while Peyton crept along apprehensively, as though descending into the eighth layer of hell. The professor positioned the two facing each other about six inches apart. Peyton fidgeted nervously with a zipper on her jacket sleeve as her eyes darted from face to face in the crowd. All eyes were fixed on the couple standing so intimately close. A slight pang of guilt stung Lucas as he watched the girl standing so close to him. She was so clearly ill at easy, her anonymity openly being compromised, and it was entirely his fault. "Now, I want you both to stare down at the ground until I say go. Then you'll look up into each other's faces and watch the reaction of the iris in the other's eyes", he looked at Lucas and Peyton for conformation that they understood. Both nodded and let their eyes fall to their shoes.

"Okay, Go.", their heads jolted up to stare pointedly into the other's face. Peyton watched as the black of Lucas' pupils dilated enormously while he looked down at her, studying her hazel eyes. Their gaze chained in pure intensity, barred all intrusions on the moment. "Peyton, what did you see when Lucas looked at you?" asked the professor after a minute of silent staring, immediately breaking the interlude between them. "Um…nothing really, well his pupils got really wide" she said, completely unsure of the answer he was asking for. "Excellent. Who knows why this young man's pupils dilated when he encountered Ms. Sawyer?" he looked around the room for a response, but none came. The uncomfortable silence was suddenly broken, "Because she's fucking fine," yelled a voice from one of the middle rows. Tim, both Lucas and Peyton cringed against his blunt idiocy. The rumbling of many chuckles reverberated through the room. "Correct, in a very vulgar sense, Mr. Smith. The iris of the eye will expand when heart rate increases, causing the pupil to dilate. And in this scenario Lucas' heart rate increased due to the fact that he finds Ms. Sawyer physically attractive" the professor explained causing Lucas to flush, his face positively aflame, but not nearly as much as Peyton's. "And that students, is today's fun and useful social communication fact. If a person's pupils get bigger while staring at you, more than likely you're looking into the face of lust" he chuckled as the class rustled around gathering their books and bags before heading for the door. Wholly sprinting back to her seat, Peyton attempted to hide her affronted face from the gawking stares of the people around her, and collect her things to head home. Her plan was to hide out in her bedroom for the rest of forever, blasting her eardrums to shreds with music.

Lucas lingered in the deserted hall for a few minutes, knowing that he should give Peyton some much-needed space. Though the embarrassment of the demonstration had not quite evaporated, another feeling began to surface in his mind, welling in his conscious. After all, he had been studying her eyes as she stared so intently back at him.


	3. Lady Macbeth

**A/N: Thank you again for all of the incredible reviews. I love love love feedback on this story. I'm also totally open to suggestions regarding the plot, so feel free to voice your ideas if you have any. FYI if anyone was wondering about the title of the fic, it's from the song _Vapor Trail _by Trespassers William. **

Disclaimer: I do not own One Tree Hill, any of its characters, or any of the dialog included in this story taken from the show.

Melodic vibrations throbbed the thin walls of her bedroom, pulses of song filling the void stillness hanging so thick in the air. A single light flickered reluctantly while its beam illuminated the furiously diligent hands of a bemused artist. Peyton slouched shamelessly in a faded green armchair positioned in front of her computer, her sketchbook propped against her leg and a black pen clutched aggressively between her fingers. She ignored the dull ache forming against her skull, pressing the pain away with a feverish desire to finish her drawing, as though allowing the sting to bleed out of her body and onto the page. She forced her mind to concentrate on the lines of ink created by her moving hand and off the sharp humiliation, she still felt from the day's events. Cold resentment seemed to overtake her veins at the mere graze of the raw memory. She wondered vaguely why she had been so affected by the whole affair. It wasn't as though she had never stood in front of so many faces before in her life. 'I've danced in front of ten times as many people at games, wearing no more than a cheer uniform for heaven sake' she thought, trying to rationalize the feelings she was facing. But, there was definitely something untried about the position she had been forced into that morning. She had felt so exposed, so frail with so many eyes on her burning face. Well, it wasn't the many eyes boring into her that had shattered her reserve, as it was one pair in particular.

Painfully irritating notes of music cut in on her brooding opus. Realizing vaguely that her cell phone was ringing and vibrating dangerously close to the edge of her desk, she caught it and tilted the phone slightly to read the screen before answering. The name 'Haley' flashed brightly below a ridiculous picture of an auburn haired girl laughing riotously, obviously in an altered state of consciousness. Peyton creased her eyebrows slightly in reaction to the caller, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the reason Haley was calling on a Friday night. Her current state did not allow for patronizing interest, even if it was one of her best girlfriends. Knowing Haley, she was sure the night would end in stumbling, crashing, and general embarrassment, followed by hours on the bathroom floor if Peyton dared picking up her call. Somewhat guiltily, she let the phone ring itself into silence as her chest heaved in a sigh, half-relieved half-disparaging. A shocking chime startled her newfound retreat as her phone alerted her of a new text message. She couldn't help but openly laugh when she read _'Pick up ur phone P. I can c u on ur cry 4-help web-cam'_. The phone in her hand vibrated violently again and, rolling her eyes blatantly at the camera faced toward her armchair, she answered.

"Hey Hales" Peyton greeted somewhat grudgingly, and yet could not help but smile at the voice reining through the line to meet her ear. 'Peyton Sawyer, how dare you blow off your Haley? Did we have another bad day?' she asked in a mockingly fretful voice. "Another bad lifetime" Peyton retorted jokingly while pulling herself up from the depression in her chair and instead shuffling over to the bed to collapse lazily. 'Well then I have a bright spot in the depressing grey that is P. Sawyer's social life…we're goin' out tonight!', Peyton could hear an excited clap of joy on the other side of the phone as Haley announced her plans for a girl's night out. "Hales, sorry but that's just not gunna happen" she felt slightly gut wrenched at draining the hope from Haley's fun filled night of illicit debauchery. 'Oh P….Why are you always so difficult? I'm not taking no for an answer.' Haley barked happily, her voice echoing strangely through the line. "In fact you don't really have a choice in the matter," squeaked an animated voice, both speaking directly into her ear and coming from a grinning girl leaning against her doorframe.

Brooke skipped unexpectedly up to stand beside Haley, smiling even more broadly, her dimples painfully visible as she glanced towards her as though exchanging more than a look. Comprehension swiftly stuck Peyton, seeing the gaze between her two best friends. "You two suck, you know that. You totally set me up!" she cried warily, throwing a pillow playfully at the couple. Haley and Brooke broke out in unashamed laughter at their less than clever ploy that had never the less accomplished exactly what they had hoped. Brooke bounded through the door and crashed on top of Peyton, still lying lankly over her scarlet comforter. "Well we wouldn't have to resort to trickery if you would just be more cooperative when we try to get you out of this unhappy room" she said plainly while looking around at the dark walls, plastered with inexplicable art she had always referred to as 'Peyton's freaky drawings'. "Seriously P., you might as well barricade the door and bar your windows" Haley joked while walking slightly more sedately over to her bed than Brooke had, and collapsing despairingly next to Peyton. "Even if I did, you two would still find a way of getting in," she commented lightly, finally resigning herself to the presence of her friends. "Oh you love it," Brooke said while rolling herself off the bed. Haley and Peyton heard a quite unintentional bump as Brooke hit the floor roughly, her mouth open and eyes gaping in a look of slight surprise. "Smooth" Haley and Peyton stated in unison. All three girls screamed and snorted in laughter at the sudden mirth of the situation.

Brooke pulled herself up from the floor, patches of cherry still gilding her cheeks, and made her way over to Peyton's closet. She flipped absently through the many t-shirts and worn jeans hanging casually, ready for another day of overcast irritability. "K, so get your day planner ready. Tonight: indulge in boys, booze, and the general corruption of our youth. Tomorrow: take Peyton for some serious power shopping for anything but t-shirts and jeans." Brooke commented wickedly while throwing a look over her shoulder to catch Peyton's reaction. She chuckled gently as a slim smile overtook her offended face. One could certainly associate the word 'fashionable' with 'Brooke' with out being the least bit presumptuous as she was always adorned in the peak of trend and fiercely voiced her belief that 'clothes make the woman'. "Oh my gosh!" came a muffled shriek, breaking in on Peyton's silent diatribe. Brooke was buried in the very back of the closet, rummaging through the hardly-ever-worn clothing Peyton hid behind her winter-wear. "I can't believe my eyes. You are so wearing this!" Brooke cried exultantly, pulling a hanger holding a short leather skirt with her as she extricated herself from the strangling t-shirts. Peyton's eyes widened seeing the derisory article of clothing being shoved at her. "Never gunna happen" she said, fiercely shaking her head and pushing the hanger away. "Come on P., it's in your wardrobe for a reason" Haley interjected smiling brazenly, knowing that Peyton would soon cave if she was spared the uncomfortable task of explaining why she had such a bracing skirt hidden away in the back of her closet. "And I totally have the perfect top for you to wear with it!" Brooke exclaimed springing out the door and down the hall to her own room before Peyton could even open her mouth to argue. She groaned deeply as she unwillingly lugged her body up from the bed.

One trivial temper tantrum later, Haley and Peyton were singing loudly with the stereo while Brooke covered her ears and pouted in the backseat. 'At least her exceptional taste in music hasn't changed' thought Peyton regarding the ginger-haired girl next to her. Loose gravel crunched underneath the tires as the car pulled up to a sizeable relapsing house. Large lurid Greek letters above the door and a heavy pounding of bass indicated that they were definitely in the right place. "Happy!" screeched Brooke, positively bolting out the car door and bouncing with anticipation. Haley chortled at her friend's obvious excitement at the prospect of a killer party and stepped lightly out onto the gravel to join her. Peyton sighed dejectedly before gradually pushing the door open and rising from her seat. The sudden burst of night drafted over her bare shoulders, exploiting the insignificant white material covering her chest. Her petty leather skirt and the borrowed halter Brooke had insisted she wear, now felt excessively insubstantial as she moved towards her friends. "Girlie you look friggin hot!" exclaimed an animated Haley while Brooke nodded fervently in agreement. "Uh…thanks…" she replied unenthusiastically, more focused on Haley's choice of clothing and makeup. She was decked out in what could only be described as a very revealing black dress, complemented by unnecessary dark eyeliner. "…You too" she finally returned, switching application to Brooke who wore an equally scandalous skirt and blouse but seemed somehow more affluent and certain than the girl standing next to her. "We're young, we're fine, let's do some damage," Brooke stated their ritualistic pre-party mantra before heading for the front door, Haley and Peyton linking arms in her wake.

Peyton's thoughts drifted into nostalgia as she clung loosely to the dynamic girl next to her. She wasn't always the willing go-a-long she had become of recent. When they had first met, Haley was more likely to be holding a book to her chest rather than a drink in her hand. She had a flare of individuality that could never be compromised. When they were in high school, Haley's eyes would sparkle at the sight of one of her student's sudden comprehension of a math problem. More than a couple failing seniors had graduated solely because of Haley's tutoring and she needed no more of a reward than the gracious smiles they wore as they accepted their diplomas. The summer before the three started university was spent wandering the beach and the consuming one-too-many corn dogs on the peer. Their youth seemed endless and unbroken, the daunting future unfathomable in the fading days of summer. But time had conquered their resolve to stay kids forever, and in the fall, they were forced to transplant their comfortable lives, unknowingly eager to start their futures. Peyton watched as Haley threw back another shot of amber liquid and a disgusted grimace form on her mouth at the taste. She smiled sadly at the barely recognizable remnants of her friend. She wasn't sure exactly when this change in Haley had happened. She must be at least partly responsible, and Brooke. Brooke was definitely a factor. But it felt as though something else had triggered the abrupt shift in Haley's behavior, as though she was forced to adapt to the new surroundings of college, afraid she had only one direction in which to grow. 'It isn't all bad, I guess' Peyton voiced silently as she laughed along with an elated Brooke and Haley, 'at least she seems happy'. But when all heads were turned away, Haley's face would fall as her self-loathing assailed her awareness, only to be replaced by a mock-up grin a moment later.

Brooke's attention unexpectedly turned to the door, through which two boys were strolling into the now crowded house. Noticing the change of focus away from the pointless conversation they were contributing to, both Haley and Peyton followed Brooke's narrowed gaze. "Who's that?" inquired a now awestruck Haley, referring to the dark haired form towering over the sea of heads. Brooke did not answer as she continued to glare pointedly at the blonde male next to him, having just pronounced himself so oppressively to the party. "Brooke? What's up?" she asked again. This time Brooke looked round at a Haley, and deciding to answer in a menacingly sugared tone, said, "Oh that's Luke's brother Nathan. Lucas told me they were busy with some basketball thing tonight…but apparently not," she added with the least amount of venom in her voice that she could filter out. 'Denial can be an ugly thing' mused Peyton deciding not to tag along as a teetering Haley dragged an unwilling Brooke off toward the boys so that Brooke could introduce her to this new attraction. "Hey Peyt" a rather unwelcome voice spoke from behind her, interrupting her thoughts yet again. She grudgingly turned to meet the lustful glare of Tim. "Don't call me Peyt, Tim" she directed in a flat tone while attempting to avert herself to another part of the house. "Oh come on now Peyt. Are you still mad that I called you hot in class today? You know most girls would kill to have a compliment thrown at them by the Tim," he added in a deluded interest of caring. "Actually I wasn't even thinking about what happened this morning, so thanks for bringing it up again, the Tim" she rolled her eyes and sidestepped the gawking boy that faced her. In truth, she had forgotten the less than prideful experience of the day while in the company of her two best friends, now however, the sentiment reseeded and she found herself in the same irritable state she started the night out in.

Giggling heartily, Haley was now completely engrossed with the vision of Nathan, his eyes fixed on the swaying girl chatting so lively about nothing too important. Brooke and Lucas stood near them, partially obscured by a cabinet, clearly having a fierce, whispered argument. Haley's high-pitched false laugh caused a cheerless smile to grace Nathan's face. Gazing down into her soft expression, for a moment he saw past the cheery pretense of the auburn-haired woman now pawing gently at his chest, and glimpsed the lonely, lost girl he had never met behind her wide brown eyes. A girl he would now give anything to know. Their candid moment was broken by the piercing buzz of a cell phone and Lucas' irate shout "Damn it Brooke! I have to take this call." Brooke sulked against the wall, a frown marring her flawless features as she turned her head away, avoiding the sight of Lucas walking briskly out a side door. "I'm gunna get another drink," she said venomously to no one in particular. "Oh I need a refill too" slurred Haley staggering off after her, smiling blandly back at Nathan who felt a pain expand in his chest as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

Peyton struggled through the dense crowds of drunken college students, sloshing drinks on themselves. It seemed impossible that half an hour a go, she was laughing and joking with her friends, and now she was alone and surrounded by an utterly polar species. The walls of bodies and hammering music, of thankfully unfamiliar artists, began to overwhelm her senses, as she grew more and more desperate for a release. She spotted a door opening onto a dark balcony and immediately labored to reach the exit. She stepped gratefully into the clean air, dark and breezy, but wonderfully open. She filled her lungs richly with oxygen and listened to the clamor of the party just feet behind her. An intrusion on the echoing sounds carried gently through the shadows. Someone was having a one-sided conversation around the corner of the balcony. She tried to press the words out of her mind, feigning politeness, until the familiarity of the voice fixed her attention. "Well maybe I don't want to play anymore! I'm not you, Nathan's not you, we're never going to be, and we don't want to be you, dad!" Lucas shouted into the receiver while slapping his palm forcefully against the side of the house. Peyton froze at the sudden emotion he was presenting. She had never experienced any side of Lucas except the sneering, ill-mannered one that had become so recurring. A prolonged silence lingered after Lucas' harsh pronouncement, it ended with a swift "Yes, sir…no, sir…no, sir" followed by an immediate click, ending the conversation. Peyton stood stunned for a moment, knowing that she should retreat into the house before he realized anyone had heard a word of his conversation, but her disbelief rooted her feet to the ground, paralyzing any judgments she could make for her own well-being. 

Lucas spun around angrily; clearly still distressed from the heated conversation he had just had with his father. It took a moment for him to realize that a figure was facing him, standing stock-still, having evidently listened to every word he had shouted. After another moment of raw embarrassment, he noticed a windswept head of golden curls. Peyton was gazing at him from a few feet away, her eyes fixed on the pained expression behind his eyes she could not quite place. "Did you enjoy that?!" he shouted, blood rushing quickly to his head at the sight of the one person to whom he never intended to show his frailty. "I…" Peyton stuttered, fully planning to claim that she had not heard any of the deafening argument, but failing to grasp the words. "Shouldn't you be locked away in your depressing bedroom, listening to your loser rock?!" his only defense against the weakness he had revealed was to persecute this intruder on his sad reality. Not waiting for her response, he started again "Why don't you go find your brainless, slutty friends and tell them everything you just heard". Peyton felt her stupor suddenly crack at his words. She charged furiously towards his tense form, hands clenched into fists and shrieked "You know what Lucas, I'm done with this. I'm done being some emotional punching bag you can abuse! Go find someone else to use and leave Brooke, and Haley, and me alone! Just get your messed up issues out of our life!" "Peyton…" he began in a slightly less rigid voice, watching the intensity grow in her enraged stare. "Just get away from me!" she shouted, not registering that she was the one advancing so heatedly towards him.

Grabbing the sides of her face brutally, he crashed his lips fiercely against her outraged mouth. Holding the electric kiss for a long moment, he released her only when he felt a harsh hand pressing against his chest in protest. She staggered back from him, disbelief etched over her face, eyes wide in complete bewilderment. But the next moment she gripped the back of his neck, closing the distance between them and met his lips again, aggressively struggling for power. He wrapped his tense arms around her slender waist and pulled her closer to his body, wanting to surround the startling girl pressed against him. Their heathen passion flamed as their intense kiss deepened, their tongues now lost in a battle of wills. Lucas slammed her non-too-gently against a pillar supporting the roof of the balcony, causing the abandoned drinks along the edge to wobble dangerously. She gripped his taut back, feeling the jolting muscles beneath her hands as she moved them slowly down to the rim of his shirt. An unintentional moan escaped Peyton's throat as his lips moved from hers to rain kisses down her bare neck and shoulders, causing Lucas to smile against her skin. His sudden buck of desire caused one of the plastic cups near them to tip, spilling its crimson contents onto Peyton's borrowed halter. Peyton, shocked by the splash of icy liquid down her chest, gasped as vivid blotches of pink blossomed into the white fabric. As though the streaming liquor had washed away the insanity of the moment, the reality of their actions swept over them. Simultaneously they pushed the other gruffly out of reach of their own grasping hands, eyes falling heavily to the deteriorating wood beneath their feet. Both marched forcefully away in opposite directions, trying to suppress their guilty reflections on what had just happened between them.

Weaving her way desperately through the swaying crowds, Peyton found a very intoxicated Haley slouched over the kitchen counter, Nathan and Brooke sitting near her, enveloped in their conversation. "Peyton, where have you been? And what happened to my shirt" asked Brooke, tearing herself away from Nathan and pointing to the stain so glaringly visible on Peyton's chest. "Oh…I… I'm so sorry Brooke, someone spilled their drink on me…looks like we should get Hales out of here" Peyton replied, trying anxiously to hide the shame in her voice, but still avoiding Brooke's accusatory stare. "Yeah, she needs to go home, do you mind taking her?" Brooke pleaded unnecessarily. Secretly grateful for the excuse to escape the party, Peyton slung one of Haley's arms around her shoulder and steadied the semi-conscious girl against her. They started towards the door, without looking around at the many people now watching them. Haley's ginger hair fell straggled over her face as Peyton lay her down in the back seat as gently as she could. She then climbed behind the steering wheel and turned over the engine. She thought vaguely of Brooke, but inwardly knew that she would be sleeping in Lucas' bed that night, the idea of the two together sent Peyton into a queasy state. She decided she needed to get Haley back to the apartment and let her sleep off the alcohol, anything to get away from the hot, bubbling guilt of her crime, anything to leave the stain of that night behind her.


	4. Raw Vices

**A/N: So I know I suck at life for failing to update in so long, no need to berate me I am well aware. I was studying for midterms and then I had the flu for like a week. I actually finished writing the end of this chapter while I was still sick and pretty doped up on medicine. It made sense to me while I was writing, but you know everything seems different when you feel like your dying. lol.**

Harsh, ragged breathing filled his senses as a rhythmic heartbeat surged in his chest. A thin cloud of breath escaped his mouth, disappearing in the lingering frost of the early morning. The muscles in his legs had long since cramped. Each stride pulled on the fibers of his calves painfully as he forced another mile out of them. A jog in the hours before sunrise seemed to be his only escape from the vexing restlessness he felt since the party, well the only escape on which he could actually act. The steely ash of morning seeped into his surroundings as he ran. The bark of the trees seemed dead and hoary; their branches menacing claws above his head, threatening to tear into his exposed back. Trickles of sweat soaked into the grey sweatshirt he wore, causing his skin to sting at the contact with the bitter air. Heavy beats throbbed in his ears, keeping time with his steps, driving all thought from his mind. He focused on the pain. He focused on his breathing. He focused on the callous morning air, on the frightful trees along his path, on the blinding spot of sun slowly rising into dawn. He focused on anything but the memory of last night. The distant horizon was changing. Velvety pink now bled into the fading grey, reminding Lucas irresistibly of the stain on her shirt, her serrated gasp as the liquid spilled on her chest, the drips beading on her faint skin, her distant moan as he traced the line of her jaw with his lips. 'No! I can't think about that. I can't think about _her_' he insisted, adjusting his mind back onto his training. But as if by design of some greater power, he found himself looking up at a glaringly familiar apartment complex. He had jogged practically up to her front door. He stood staggered for a moment, trying to comprehend exactly how he had ended up in this spot. But a moment later, he swiftly turned his back on the building, on his girlfriend's door, on her, and sprinted down the imposing path now laid out in front of him.

Peyton stared blankly through a gap in the blinds that covered the window next to her bed, watching the glimmers of light falling through the slits of fluttering leaves. She pressed one hand gently to her lips, while clutching a mug loosely in the other, the dregs of coffee at the bottom now very cold. Her mind seemed to be working dreadfully slow. A film of distortion obscured all rational thought as though a large amount of Vaseline had been smeared over her brain. The events of last night were not hazy. They were not delightfully unclear as she desperately wished they were. No, the details were vivid and burning, every prolonged stroke of his hands, every pleasurable shiver, every covetous touch, her grasping nails down his back, the violent pressure of his lips on hers. It was all free of the abstraction of an alcoholic daze. Her very memory assaulted the reality of the morning, the brilliant morning, which now seemed blindingly bright and truthful. The only detail she could not recall was the reason she had pulled him back to her. In that moment, her logic had been replaced by a furious impulse to touch, to feel his body pressed against hers. Sin held no value when his hands were ravishing every part of her. It did not matter that she despised the man shoving himself into her, or that someone she loved, loved him, or that his lips would be pressed upon Brooke's later that same night. All that mattered was that she quenched her thirst for him. She wanted to cry, she wanted relief, she wanted to let this infection drain from her body. But her eyes remained resolutely dry, as though she was too loathsome to bless with tears.

The gentle rustling of fabric brought Peyton out of her silent reverie. She turned her attention to the lopsided lump now stirring underneath her comforter. Haley rolled over to face the brilliance of the morning pouring through the window. Her dark ginger hair splayed over her face, obscuring her knotted forehead and squinting eyes. She let out a miserable low moan as she pressed both palms gently against the sides of her head. Peyton sighed, slightly exasperated, watching Haley attempt to clear her vision of straggling hair. "What happened?" she asked in a raspy flat tone. Peyton chuckled slightly at her friend's obvious lack of memory of the events of the previous night, "it's Saturday morning Hales. What do you think happened last night?" Haley opened her eyes faintly while sitting up tenderly, looking around and asking, "Why am I in your bed?" "Well I thought it would be more comfortable that the grimy kitchen floor at the frat house" Peyton replied in a slightly sarcastic voice. "What? Frat house?" she asked now very confused, all this remembering was hammering on her already swollen head. Peyton's brows creased as she watched Haley's attempt to recall where she had been and what she had done to make her wake up in such a state. "Seriously Hales, you don't remember anything? You don't remember dragging me to the party last night, you passing out on the kitchen counter?" Her voice dripped of concern now rather than indict. "Do you even remember talking to Nathan?" she asked hoping that this incentive would provoke her memory into working order. Haley slouched back down in bed and pulled her knees up to her chest before asking confusedly "Nathan? Who? What are you talking about?" "So much for love at first sight" Peyton laughed, standing up and heading for the kitchen, leaving a very dejected Haley to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

She filled a tall glass half-full of water from the tap and watched as the tiny bubbles rose slowly from the bottom to burst on the surface as she absently grabbed the bottle of aspirin sitting next to the sink. The pills rattled softly as she unscrewed the cap and looked inside, noticing only a couple white pills remained, she thought to herself, 'another week, another bottle. Maybe we should start buying in bulk?' She started back toward her bedroom and an ailing Haley with three pills in one hand and the glass of water in the other when the front door swung open, forcefully banging off the back wall. Brooke shuffled in; face pale and hair limp, clearly suffering just as much as the girl lying in Peyton's bed with the covers pulled over her head. Brooke looked up into the Peyton's face, a half-smile playing over her lips. "Long night?" she asked, watching as Brooke pulled the rest of her body through the door. She let out an unintelligent grunting moan before snatching the pills Peyton was now holding out to her and swallowing them dry. She threw her shiny black leather purse onto the couch before scuffling down the hall to collapse onto her bed. Peyton's stomach lurched and tied its self into tight knots at the sight of her best friend, clearly still in pain from the night before. The slightest unease that maybe Brooke knew, that Lucas might have told her about…about last night, struck her tharn. But a moment later, reality caught up with her senses as she realized that if Brooke had any idea of how badly her best friend had betrayed her she would surely vocalize her rage to the point where her voice would wake the dead. Peyton sighed miserably again and shook her head after the limping form of Brooke before grabbing more pills from the kitchen. 'She doesn't know' she resolved sorrowfully 'I dunno if that's better or worse.'

"No more noise please," groaned the lump from beneath the comforter, her voice muffled slightly as she spoke through the material. Peyton closed the door behind her with a feeble click. "Okay, how about some aspirin?" Peyton asked now smiling at the fact that at least Haley hadn't died in the few minutes she was out of the room. "You're the love of my life" came the stifled reply as a hand poked itself out from under the covers, ready to receive the small white pills. Peyton snorted and placed the water next to her alarm, handing over the medication to the faceless hand protruding from her bed. "Hales, you can't keep doing this to yourself. One of these nights Brooke and I aren't gunna be around to carry your drunken butt home" she tried to contain her distress watching her friend chug down the tepid water. Haley rubbed her knuckles into her eyes, smearing the lingering make-up still plastered over her eyelids from the night before. "I know Peyton, but can we please argue about this later, maybe when an elephant isn't standing on my head?" she pleaded while sinking back into the folds of the warm mattress. "Fine, but if you're not up in an hour I'm coming back and pouring water on your head" Peyton chuckled hoping to get an equal response out of Haley. She made no reply but rolled over to face the wall, pulling the covers tighter around her small frame, as if to shield herself from the blinding morning sunlight.

His well-worn trainers pounded against the creaking wooden steps as Lucas climbed up onto his front porch. Clutching his side painfully, he gasped desperately for oxygen, his chest heaving deeply with every reckless breath. He lurched forward to grasp the latch to open the door into the house he shared with his brother, pushing rashly against the peeling paint. Locked, 'why is it locked?' he puzzled. Being much too frantic to get away from the stifling walls that had surrounded him when he awoke next to the beautiful girl he called his girlfriend earlier that morning, he had raced out the door without the least thought of taking his keys. Lucas banged hotly against the wood, assuming Nathan would be sleeping in late before hitting the court. He was startled when a broad hand pulled the headphone out of his right ear. Spinning around on the spot, he faced the irate face of his younger brother; clearly irritated about something Lucas was sure was his fault. "You're up early" he smirked, hoping to lighten the mood and distract Nathan from whatever it was he had done to aggravate his nerves. Nathan opened his mouth furiously "where have you been? You totally disappeared this morning!" his cheeks now flushing gently against the chill air. "So what, I needed to get out, why do you even care?!" Lucas retorted his voice now rising in parallel to what he though was a great overreaction on his brother's part. "You've been gone for like three hours! You left Brooke here! I just got back from driving her home!" Nathan yelled now matching Lucas' volume. "That's it? You're mad because you had to drive her like five minutes across town?" he asked now laughing in disbelief, sometimes his brother could be quite the little girl.

Nathan sighed dejectedly and retreated to lean against the rickety railing of their porch, resignedly ruffling his dark hair. "That's not why I'm mad Luke," he stated very calmly as though distressed "why are you doing this?" "What am I doing?" Lucas lowered his voice to meet Nathan's tone but rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "To Brooke Lucas, why are you doing this to Brooke?" Nathan asked, fully expecting Lucas to deny he had any idea to what he was referring; sometimes his bother could be quite the inconsiderate jerk. "I'm not doing anything to her, well…" he started to chortle, anticipating sharing a crude laugh with Nathan. No smile cracked over his lips, which remained resolutely pursed in frustration. "I'm serious, you treat her like…like she doesn't matter, or like she's just something you can use" his voice now rising into anger again. Lucas' eyes snapped to meet Nathan's for the first time in their conversation, "what are you talking about, and why do you care?" he asked again. A sudden fear that perhaps Nathan knew more about last night than he was letting on washed over him, chilling his body more thoroughly than the brisk morning. "What the hell is wrong with you Lucas?! She's gorgeous and cool and actually has a heart, and for some reason she stays with you even when you get up and leave her first thing in the morning!" he shouted, not caring if the entire neighborhood could hear them "and dad told me what you said last night…about basketball." "Why are you talking to dad about me?!" Lucas screamed, turning away from the burning blue eyes piercing through his lies, eyes so familiar, eyes he shared. Nathan straightened up and took a few strides toward his brother, "look man, you can't quit. Right now it's the only thing keeping you together." Lucas averted his eyes from his stare, letting his head fall disconsolately into submission. "Just unlock the damn door Nate," he did not shout, he did not even look up. Sighing in defeat, Nathan motioned to open the door, jingling his keys gently as he moved.

Night had fallen over the small tatty town. Darkness pressed in upon the windows, suffocating any light from the moon or stars that dared creep through the breaks in the overhanging clouds. The windows along the short street sparkled and flickered like dying candle flames. The inhabitants of the university apartments readied themselves for another Saturday night and the various opportunities it provided. A lone girl sat slumped on the sitting room couch, dark strands of hair falling to one side of her face as she inattentively flipped through channels on the television. Pulling a thin blanket more tightly around her body, she looked up at the clock hanging above their front door, 10:30 pm. It was not like Brooke to be sitting at home on any night of the weekend. Her place was usually the first one in line at the keg or the girl dancing wildly on top of a coffee table, not curled up alone on a couch watching reruns of a TRL countdown. But she simply did not have the heart to dig up a party that night, she found it much easier to sprawl out in front of the TV and wallow for a few hours before falling asleep. A sharp rapping shook her out of the stupor she had fallen into watching an Oreo's commercial, she now had an unexplainable hunger for chocolate cookies. Brooke pulled herself up from her spot on the couch, abandoning the blanket in a messy pile on the cushions. Opening the door apprehensively, she was greeted by the diminished form of Lucas, hands in pockets, wearing a sheepishly apologetic expression.

Brooke sighed tiredly while pinching the bridge of her nose irritably. "Didn't think you were coming over tonight," she said dully, leaning against the edge of the open door and looking out at the blonde boy staring at his shoes. "Brooke…I'm sorry" he spoke quietly to the ground. Brooke snorted inaudibly before starting in on her boyfriend "that's original Luke, really I never would have expected that would be the first thing you would say to me." "Listen, I am, I'm sorry for…," he said now looking up to stare at her cross face pressed against the narrow border of her front door. "…for walking out on me this morning without even a note, for lying to me about being busy last night, or for waiting all day before coming over here to apologize" she was used to this, used to the circular argument, to the half-hearted 'I'm sorry Brooke', and her inevitable acceptance of his hallow words. "For all of it, I guess" he stated somewhat lamely, he knew this dance well, every predictable step, every forced technicality. Brooke took a deep breath, closing her eyes slowly, willing herself not to fall under his feeble apology. But the moment she lifted her head to gaze at his charming features, fixed in the expression of imitation-guilt he had long since perfected, she stood back from the entrance, allowing him to follow her through the door. "Forgive me?" he smiled satisfactorily, knowing that her resolution would eventually break from the moment she opened the door to see him standing there so humbly. Brooke made no reply, but instead took his hand limply in her own; her face rigidly fixed in an expression of resolute quail, leading him to her room.

The round doorknob rattled lightly before rotating slowly counter clockwise. Peyton pulled her key from the lock while simultaneously pushing the door inward, letting herself into the sitting room of her apartment. Stepping gratefully into the familiar space, she glanced routinely up at the ticking clock, 12:00 am. She placed her thumb and index finger on her temples wearily, ridding herself of the heavy bag slung over her back into the grey lazy-boy in the corner of the room. A couple nights a week, she would DJ at the campus radio station, calling her installment _'Saki's 80's retro and whatever else I feel like playing hour.'_ The station allowed her virtually unbridled liberty regarding the songs she played over the air, a perfect outlet for her musical genius. Even though this was pretty much her ideal part-time job, the late hours wore on her, some evenings not getting home until two or three-o-clock in the morning. She padded softly down the hall to her room, feeling the need to shed her jeans and t-shirt, which she now felt were choking her with the length of the day that remained in their fibers. She pulled on a thin black tank top and a pair of loose boxer shorts while pulling her curls up into a ponytail high on the back of her head. Rolling down the waistband of her shorts a couple times, her stomach rumbled aggressively, demanding she feed it that moment or else threatened to implode. She made her way down the lightless hallway to the confined kitchen; her mind set on some chocolate chip cookie dough she knew was waiting for her in the refrigerator.

She hummed the bridge of a song that was still resolutely playing inside her head as she bobbed and danced faintly, able to guide herself blindly into the kitchen. Her movement ceased instantly as her eyes came into contact with two blue pinpricks, flashing in her direction from the corner of the dark room. She stood horrified at this unexpected encounter; she had not yet allowed her mind to invent an uncommitted excuse regarding the past night to fall back on. She stood motionless and alone in the entrance to the room, her mind being pulled in two different directions, one, a furious desire to turn-tail from the situation and the other, her equally strong doggedness not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his presence left her taken aback. Lucas sat upright in his seat at the table, equally stunned, starring unwittingly at the tall outline of an unprepared Peyton. In one hand, he held a nearly empty container, in the other an erect spoon, covered in an unreasonably large dollop of peanut butter. Noticing his uncanny likeness to a rodent caught sneaking food from a winter store; Peyton laughed unexpectedly at his wide, gaping eyes and slightly open mouth. "What on earth are you doing to the poor peanut butter?" she asked now openly giggling at the unexpected hilarity he was presenting. Quite surprised by the reaction of the usually sullen and cloistered girl, he was momentarily stunned, still wondering at the lightheartedness to which he was being privy.

"Um…I ah…couldn't find any bread?" he asked rather than answered, still quite wrong footed. Peyton laughed and flipped on a dim light above the sink. "You mean this bread?" she inquired sarcastically, holding up a full white loaf by its loose packaging. Dropping his eyes and crumpling his lips to one side of his face as though faintly embarrassed, Lucas replied, "okay, so I like peanut butter. Haven't you ever eaten it out of the bin with a spoon?" "No, can't say that I have" she lied openly. When she was a little girl, her dad would let her sneak a spoonful of peanut butter sometimes before her mom would start cooking dinner, it was one of the rare and precious memories she held from childhood. Peyton silently made her way over to the fridge and pulled open the heavy door, accompanied by the intake of breathe, as the suction of the seal was broken. Lucas watched her move warily, still expecting sharp teeth and nails to claw into him at any second. Studding her form as she bent over gently, looking for some remnants of food lost in the depths of the refrigerator, his gaze changed as the baggy fabric of her shorts rose up her slender thighs. She pulled back, straightening her body and holding a tube of cookie dough firmly in one hand. Lucas quickly withdrew his stare and refocused on the inviting spoon still clutched between his fingers. Taking a small lick from the sweet indulgence, he chanced another look toward the casual form of Peyton, now hoisting herself carelessly to sit on the countertop. A feasible tactic now half-formed in her head, she felt the best way of dealing with this whole situation was complete and utter denial of any awkward, or unreasonable pretense, a ploy, which was in of itself injurious.

Lucas, now beginning to catch up with Peyton's thinking, decided that if she felt denial was the best way of handling things, he was surely not going to argue the course. It was definitely easier than hashing things out rationally, which would undoubtedly end in screaming, crying, and general embarrassment, all he was sure would take place on his part. Her legs swung smoothly, her heels bumping the cabinets underneath her gently as they sway. His eyes began traveling the length of her body, her eyes fixed determinedly in any direction away from him. Peyton continued to nibble on the tube of comfort, the oozing contents of which rose as she squeezed the flimsy plastic, apparently failing to notice as one of the thin straps of her top fell leisurely over one shoulder. Unwillingly, Lucas took in the rest of her appearance. The offhanded shorts she wore beginning well below the curve of her hipbones and ending well above her upper thigh, while her dark tank top clung suggestively to her subtle curvatures. She was dressed simply, as simply as he in his roomy pajama bottoms and worn blue t-shirt that nevertheless accentuated his well-formed chest and stomach. Finishing the last lick of peanut butter, he stood gracefully and walked over to the sink to cast away his sticky spoon. Only when he turned slightly after dropping the silverware with a metallic chime against the bottom of the sink did he notice how closely he was now standing to her. She turned her head suddenly to stare back at him, a look of slight fear falling over her beautiful features. "What on earth are you doing to the poor cookie dough?" he asked quietly, attempting to lighten the abrupt change in mood. Peyton laughed softly, tilting her head uneasily. This close proximity allowed him an open view of her willowy neck, free from the shrouds of dangling curls that usually covered it.

Peyton's breath quickened spontaneously in her chest, he was close, much too close. Though she wanted nothing more than to look away from Lucas' keen stare, she was unable to tear her eyes away from the connection held between his. He could feel accelerated gushes of blood through his body. Each heavy beat of his heart demanding he close the distance between their bodies. His primal instincts now taking control, he moved himself directly in front of the frozen form of Peyton, still perched on the countertop. He placed himself between her legs, unsure of anything at that particular moment in time, unsure of any of the events that had led up to this, or any that would follow. She did not push him away. She let him invade her ever-persistent sphere of personal space, astounded by her own lack of evasion to the intimacy presented. They merely stared intently into each other's eyes for a very prolonged moment, or perhaps several minutes, they would never be able to tell in future, their thoughts racing toward the pending disaster. Smoothly and expectantly, Lucas raised a hand to brush lightly against her soft cheek, the slightest hint of a blush barely creeping into her skin. He fluently melted down to meet her expectant lips tenderly in a hesitantly wary kiss, so unlike the brutal one he had demanded from her the night before.

He pulled back from her an inch, completely unsure if he had just done what he thought he had, the faint taste of sugar and chocolate playing over his lips. Her eyes, still closed, gave her the appearance of completely innocent, graceful, and untouched angel. Eyelids fluttering open pleasantly, she slid her hands meekly up the stretched cotton of his shirt, the pads of her fingers coming to rest tenderly against the straining muscles of his chest. Peyton looked up unsurely into his contemplating face, watching her every shy movement. A kind, yet sensual gaze meeting her in Lucas' darkening eyes, she leaned in to press her lips upon the luxurious softness of his, wanting to taste the oh-so familiar flavor lingering in his mouth. Now more confident that his want was reciprocated, he let his hands fall serenely to the exposed skin below her boxer shorts, rubbing the smoothness he found warmly, coxing desire from her body. Her small hands moved from his front to grasp desirously onto his strong shoulders, pulling him closer. His clever tongue moistened the slit of her mouth, pleading for entrance into a more passionate meeting. Peyton parted her lips eagerly as one of his rough hands met the seam of her neck, forcing her head back to deepen their kiss. She wrapped her legs gingerly around Lucas' waist, causing a low moan to form in his mouth, stifled by her devouring lips. Lifting her shirt a few inches, he was greeted by the beautiful warm skin of her toned stomach, heated by the furiously pounding blood in her veins.

His mouth left hers, as he dragged his lips down to the hollow between her clavicles, earning him a streaked gasp and a tightened grip on his muscles. He kissed slowly up to the spine of her jaw, just below her left earlobe. Peyton shifted her hands up his barbed neck, converging them in his untidy blonde hair, hoping to encourage his touch. Finding the sensitive spot behind her ear, Lucas licked and sucked gently at the tender skin as she whimpered delightedly. Lifting her powerfully in his arms, he carried her light frame the short distance to the kitchen table, laying her down caringly while bracing his weight between his arms placed on either side of her thin body. Peyton lifted the brim of his shirt delicately, aching to feel his lustful skin against hers; wanting to return the pleasure he was giving her. She traced the contours of his laboring back muscles, sending thrills of excitement throughout his entire body. Lucas groaned frankly, as she pulled him into her, arching her hips up to meet his as if to tease his folding will. He enveloped her mouth again, surveying every fissure she had to offer, craving the sweetness of her kiss. He wanted this so badly, he wanted her. A harsh click startled the pair as both turned to stare at the fragments of light creeping from underneath a closed door, invading the darkness of the empty hall. Simultaneously flicking their heads to gape at the identical frightened expressions adorning each other's faces, Peyton hurriedly pushed Lucas fiercely off her, attempting to put as much distance between them as possible. Rolling off the table in a fluid movement, she sprinted down the dark hallway to her room, trying to fix her disheveled clothing as she ran, before Brooke could open her door to see her best friend intertwined with the man she loved.

**A/N: So the paragraph where I start talking about peanut butter is the point in the story where the Nyquil begins to take over the writing J. Love it? Hate it? Let me know. **


	5. Concentric Circles

**A/N: IMPORTANT NOTICE REGARDING THIS FANFIC AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! On a side note, I had no intention of this chapter being so ridiculously long but it took many more words than I initially anticipated to get my thoughts out. Ya'll freakin rock for continuing to read and especially to review this story. Luv!**

Disclaimer: I still do not own OTH, nor do I own the lyrics to _Angel Pumping Gas_ by The Postal Service.

She took a tender step forward, her short pink toes skimming over the gentle flakes of white on the ground. The pads of her feet were horribly cold, bitter flakes of snow chilling her naked skin. Everything around her was ghostly white. Dazzling snow blanketed every surface surrounding her, the floor, the walls, her desk, her bed, even the ceiling was covered in brilliant flakes of whiteness, falling delicately into her chocolate brown locks. She spun around, the room about her becoming a single blinding blur. She looked around her, searching for something, for someone. Spotting him standing just out of her grasp, she reached out desperately wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. But just as she was about to touch his bare chest, Lucas' smiling face disappeared again. Wounded and confused, she turned again, hunting for his lost form but finding only a flash of wild blonde curls accompanied by a shrill jolt of girlish laughter. She tried to call out into the oppressive air but the sound died on her lips. She could hear their voices, laughing and giggling just out of sight, then the innocent sounds turned to lustful moans and panting breath. Frantically whirling in circles she attempted to push away the clouding mist of falling snow screening her vision. "Luuucas" his name was called out, but not by her, but by a deathly familiar female voice, a much too familiar voice. Brooke awoke suddenly, bolting up to sit in bed, still panting furiously.

Beads of cold sweat fell gracefully down the curves of her neck. Still slightly panicked, she searched the darkness of her bedroom, looking for the soft snow that had so recently covered every surface. Finding no white flakes falling from the ceiling, she realized that her mind must have been lost in a bizarre dream world. She turned her body, now expecting to find a sleeping Lucas lying next to her, but she discovered only a vacant space in her bed. Perplexed as to why she had woken up so lonely, the raspy gasps of desire of her boyfriend and her best friend still echoing in her befuddled mind, she leaned over to her nightstand and turned on a blindingly bright light with a harsh click. With one last deep groan, the voices ceased as she assumed the final dregs of disturbing sleep fell away. She placed one hand gently to her forehead, trying to comprehend exactly what she had just been dreaming. Brooke pushed away the cumbersome blankets and stood, sliding her feet over the thankfully snow-free carpet. Reaching her door, she pulled it open dramatically, letting streaks of light fall into the dark hallway, the gloom of her apartment pressing upon her dilated eyes. She wandered into the darkness, still searching for her missing boyfriend. She turned the corner into their restricted kitchenette to face the flushed face of Lucas, wide eyes darting between her and the empty hall behind her as though assessing his escape options. "Luke?" she asked tentatively, barely raising her voice above a whisper. He stared at her a moment, seemingly lost for words before uttering "hey." "Where did you go?" Brooke asked narrowing her eyes, now slightly concerned at his odd behavior. He quickly rearranged his face into what he assumed was an innocent expression, "what do you mean? I'm right here."

Brooke nodded slowly while creasing her eyebrows. "Yeah, I see that you're right here, but I meant I wondered why you weren't in bed?" she explained, moving her eyes down to stare at his startled posture. Lucas suddenly angled his body away from his girlfriend as he felt her intense stare lingering over his thin pajama pants. He sat abruptly in one of the chairs at the table, sliding his lower half underneath it and crossing his legs away from her. "Oh…well I thought that I would…um…grab a midnight snack," yeah that excuse would do, it was half-true anyway. "Right" Brook said slowly, nodding gradually while searching the rest of the room for bits of left over food. She spotted the open tube of chocolate chip cookie dough still sitting haphazardly on the counter. "Lucas! Peyton is gunna kill you!" she exclaimed now fully believing his story. "Peyton! What!" he cried in an unnaturally high voice while jumping considerably in his seat. "That was her cookie dough, and she's weirdly possessive about it," she added watching his unexplained convulsion but deciding not to comment. Brooke bustled around closing up the squashy tube and placing it back in the refrigerator hurriedly, as though she expected Peyton to walk in and start berating her for snacking on it. "I um…I'm sorry" Lucas stated quite unsurely, watching as she hurried around the kitchen. His mind was working quickly. Though the immediate danger seemed to have passed, he was still unconvinced that Brooke hadn't woken up because of the noises her best friend had just been enticing out of him as he pressed her against the very table under which he was now hiding the evidence of their actions. "Let's just go back to bed," she pleaded while placing a hand serenely on his broad shoulder, feeling his quickened pulse, which felt abnormally heavy as he was just sitting in a chair. Lucas flinched faintly at her touch but nodded unevenly. Brooke made her way back to her bedroom, her boyfriend in tow, flipping the kitchen light off to leave the room in thick shadows.

Just down the hall, a furiously panting Peyton sat tightly against her bedroom door, not daring to turn on the lights in fear of attracting attention to herself. She pressed an ear against the chipped wooden surface to listen to the conversation, which was taking place only a few yards away on the other side of the door. Hearing Brooke's muffled voice, filled with suspicion or concern, she could not tell which, Peyton's desperate heart began pounding violently in her throat. Lucas' dulcet tones quickened Peyton's breath as she anxiously listened to the stifled words he spoke. "Lucas! Peyton is gunna kill you!" she jumped and squeaked at Brooke's unexpected, angry use of her name. "Peyton! What!" came Lucas' unusually shrill cry following his girlfriend's scolding. Peyton dug her nails painfully into her knees and tried to listened to the couple's argument, which was rather difficult over the rush of blood in her ears. 'It's all over' she thought no longer able to keep her frantic mind on the arguing voices 'what did I do…how could I have done that to her…to my best friend?' Peyton let her head fall heavily into the palms of her hands, biting her bottom lip painfully. She was expecting an infuriated Brooke to break down her door at any moment, waiting…waiting…still waiting. No irate pounding on the door came, no screaming Brooke, not even the unmistakable sobbing and wailing of a broken-hearted girl. Confusion now sweeping over her, Peyton stood hesitantly, attempting to calm her heavy breathing. 'What is going on?' she thought desperately, the grave silence thrilling her more than the indistinguishable voices now silenced. Confusion and curiosity getting the best of her, Peyton opened her door a crack to peek out into the hallway, no Brooke, no Lucas, only the gashes of light created by the street lamps outside. 'She didn't hear us. She didn't see me. Lucas talked his way out of it.' thoughts raced through her mind, one after another, leaving her sighing in sickly relief.

Friday afternoon found Peyton sitting alone under a tall birch, the canopy of changing leaves overhead rustling sweetly in the muted breeze. The afternoon sun slowly fading into dusk, she watched as the far horizon darken, the trees becoming silhouettes against the sky. The scene was peaceful, quiet, so unlike the eruptions of thought behind her still façade. She held a black pen loosely in one hand, only half-heartedly sketching a scene she had lost interest in half an hour ago. Her mind was scattered, thoughts and memories chasing each other around her head, looping in endless circles. Her stomach clenched sorely at the thought of Brooke, a twisted travesty of guilt sickening her entire body. She had spent most of the past week fervently trying to avoid her best friend, which took much more energy than she ever would have thought. And Lucas, 'oh good heavens Lucas,' the graze of his name sent her into unexplainable tremors. Guilt, regret, shame, no word seemed to be pungent enough to describe her inward feelings, to express the crass taste lingering on her lips ever since that night. Dropping her pen and pad of paper carelessly onto the grass, she swept a shaking hand viciously through her golden ringlets, hopelessly seeking relief. She resigned herself to watching the people clamoring along the paths to class, untroubled and content, safe in their own skin. She had absolutely no idea what she had been thinking Saturday night. The night before at the party, she had been angry and frightened, emotion burning through reality. But in the kitchen with him, their actions had been slow, deliberate, free from the shrouds of a party. Being so close to him seemed to blur reality and desire, his jolting muscles, his exhilarating scent, his confident touch. He had not been demanding or insistent, she had accepted him willingly, craving him.

She suddenly motioned to grab her things and stuff them gruffly into her bag, wanting to distract herself from the stifling memory. She stood swiftly, bracing herself with one hand against the trunk of the tree, eyes still fixed on the silver grass beneath her shoes. Starting off randomly, head down and mind a thousand miles away, she was startled when she crashed harshly into a broad chest. Peyton toppled back, nearly losing her balance before a pair of strong arms captured her falling body. Looking up fearfully into a pair of much too familiar blue eyes, she placed one hand forcefully over her mouth to cover her gasp. "Whoa! Sorry, you ok?" asked a deep, but surprisingly foreign voice. She took a step backward away from the tall form, arms still wrapped securely around her waist. Staring up into the handsome face of Nathan Scott, her breath steadily slowed as her thumping heart calmed in her chest. "Yeah, sorry…I wasn't um…" she stammered, ridiculously relieved to find herself looking into his face rather than his brother's. Nathan smiled at the dizzy happiness she was expressing, "You're Peyton right? Brooke's friend?" he asked, slowly recognizing the head of wild curls. Peyton grinned awkwardly before answering, "yeah, that's me. You're Nathan Scott?" He chuckled gently and nodded, pleased that she knew him. "Oh, this is Jake" Nathan motioned vaguely to his left, indicating a sheepish boy standing a short distance away with a mop of untidy light brown hair and a sweetly innocent face. Jake waved dazedly in Peyton's direction. "Peyton Sawyer" she signaled indistinctly, introducing herself to this shy new prospect.

Nathan raised his eyebrows as he asked, "So, I guess I'll see you tonight?" "Um…yeah…" Peyton replied, not fully comprehending what he had asked as she was still staring intently at Jake. "…Wait…tonight? What's tonight?" she inquired refocusing her attention on Nathan, now very confused about what she had agreed to. He chortled softly before answering her worried expression, "the beach party…I thought Brooke would have told you." "Ah no, she didn't" she did not feel much like explaining that she had barely seen her best friend this past week, let alone talked to her. Nathan nodded unsurely "oh, ok, well the team is having a bonfire on the beach tonight. You should come." Peyton shuffled her feet and stared down at the thinning grass while shifting her weight uneasily, "I don't think so, I…" But Jake cut in unexpectedly on the conversation, "you really should come. It isn't gunna be like huge or anything, just some people hanging out." Her attention swiftly shifted to Jake, now smiling hopefully at her. Nathan's expression was bright and encouraging "come on, they'll be plenty of beer, the ocean, what else could you ask for," he said smoothly, he had had his share of convincing reluctant girls. "Oh, alcohol and night swimming, that's a winning combination" Peyton joked sarcastically; she felt her resolve shattering in the face of two handsome basketball players. She looked helplessly between the boys staring at her, "Why not?" she finally conceded. Both boys broke out in identical, smug grins at her acceptance to their invitation. "Okay, well see you there then. Tell Brooke hi for me, k? Oh, and Haley too." Nathan added, starting to walk away down the nearest path. "Don't worry, you'll have fun" Jake smiled before turning to walk with Nathan. Peyton beamed despite her previously morose state of mind as she watched them striding away haughtily.

"What do you think of the yellow polka dots?" Haley sat on the edge of the silky violet comforter covering Brooke's enormous round bed. Brooke was eyeing herself in a long mirror, trying to decide if the black and gold bikini accentuated her breasts more than the sparkly pink one did. Both girls were madly excited at the prospect of showing themselves off in front of the entire varsity basketball team that night. Brooke puckered her lips at her reflection in the mirror, shimmying her shoulders seductively as though dancing. She flipped a look over her shoulder to eye the swimsuit Haley was holding up, wordlessly asking for an opinion. "Hmm…I like it, very you" she nodded finally after a moment of silent contemplating. Haley smiled and tilted her head gently, agreeing with Brooke's judgment, it was very her. Deciding that she would try the pink bikini again, for the tenth time, Brooke replaced her top with the glittery sequined one. "So, Nathan's gunna be there tonight" Brooke stated casually, but peeked slyly over at her friend to gauge her reaction. Haley crinkled her forehead at the mention of the name, "who is this Nathan again, Peyton asked me about him too, did I miss something? We didn't have sex did we?" Brooke shrieked with laughter at her apparent amnesia, "no, I'm pretty sure you didn't have sex with him" she continued to giggle, "Hales, you don't remember him at all? That is so sad. You seemed so into him at the party." Haley shook her head, faintly annoyed with Brooke for finding this so funny. "Oh come on, Luke's brother…tall, blue eyes, dark hair, unbelievably gorgeous guy that you were totally groping" Brooke tried, smiling wickedly at her oblivious friend. Haley sat in silent thought for a moment, desperately attempting to place a supposedly gorgeous face with the name. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed abruptly, her memory immediately falling into place, "Nathan, oh goodness. He was so hot. I can't believe I didn't remember him. I'm totally gunna marry that boy." She sat open mouthed; still wondering at the fact that she had forgotten the infamous Nathan Scott.

Brooke turned her body to face Haley fully, rolling her eyes, but with a genuine grin plastered on her face. "Aw, you're in love, cuteness" she cooed, placing both hands over her heart sweetly. Haley laughed, her face reddening slightly, "oh shut up!" she threw a decorative throw pillow at the glowing girl. "So, what's the plan tonight?" Haley asked while casually pulling up the white and yellow polka dotted bikini bottoms. Brooke was fidgeting absently with the glittering fabric of her own swimsuit. "You mean how are we gunna persuade Peyton to come with us to the beach?" she asked laughing at the hidden meaning behind Haley's question. Grinning guiltily, Haley nodded, pursing her lips in thought. "Hmm…well the first excuse she's gunna try to use is that she doesn't have anything to wear. But I know for a fact she has a red bikini somewhere in her closet" Brooke admitted without the slightest sliver of shame. Raising an eyebrow skeptically, Haley asked, "You know for a fact do you?" Brooke shrugged innocently before adding, "so I raid her closet once in a while, that's what best friends do." Both girls broke out in piercing giggles. "Well in that case, let's, we have to find it before she comes home and denies that she's ever been to the beach in her life" Haley exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and moving to the door. A beaming Brooke followed Haley down the hall, bouncing into Peyton's sinister room. "If I were Peyton's sexy red-hot bikini, where would I be?" Brooke asked playfully, peeling through the hanging clothing. "Oh, underwear drawer!" Haley suggested, the obvious thought clicking in her brain. Brooke's face lit up at the notion as she quickly riffled through Peyton's colorful girlish cotton panties and bras. "My goodness we need to take that girl to Victoria's Secret" she joked, holding up a pair of pink and blue striped briefs. "And what exactly are you planning to do with those?" both girls spun around fearfully at the abrupt question directed at them from a cross armed Peyton, one eyebrow raised questioningly at her two best friends.

"What on earth are you guys doing in here?" Peyton asked, doing her best to look stern and disapproving, holding back the uncontrollable laugh she was bursting to free at the sight of their frightened faces. Brooke and Haley glanced blankly at each other, asking mutely for an escape from their guilty actions. "We…well we were…um…" Brooke faltered, frantically trying to come up with a good reason she was still holding a pair of Peyton's panties. Peyton suddenly laughed frankly, unable to suppress her hilarity anymore, her seriousness quickly evaporating. The tense atmosphere in the room lightened immediately, all three girls screeched and howled, their intense mirth bringing tears to all of their eyes. Peyton slouched onto her bed while Haley took a seat on the floor and Brooke fell into the sagging green armchair. "Okay, so really what are you guys doing in my underwear drawer?" she finally asked, calming down enough to maintain a steady voice. Haley smirked sneakily, "we were looking for your bikini, because if we found it you wouldn't be able to use not having a swimsuit as an excuse for bailing on the beach tonight." Comprehension hitting her swiftly, Peyton smiled and laughed lightly while nodding considerately. She stood, scuffling off to her sizeable dresser and opened a sock drawer.

Sorting through the many pairs of various socks, some brightly colored, some a subdued white, she held up a simple red bikini top and matching bottom. "This what you looking for?" she asked knowingly while holding both pieces neglectfully in one hand. Brooke clapped excitedly seeing the skimpy red nylon, "so you're gunna come with us, right?" she asked pouting her lips as if to beg. "I guess" Peyton sighed with fake exasperation. She had felt a bit lonely this past week without her two best friends and was secretly keen for a night of fun with the girls, "plus I kinda told Nathan I would," she added watching Haley's response at the mention of Nathan. "Oh, you talked to Nathan?" she inquired, failing to hide her delight. Peyton chuckled at Haley's obvious enthusiasm, "yeah, he says hi…to both of you" she said now glancing over in Brooke's direction, delivering the promised greeting. "Okay, well get a move on girlie!" Brooke cried impatiently, skipping happily out the room so Peyton could change. She let her head fall back slightly and groaned half-heartedly but ruined the effect by grinning broadly as the door closed on Haley and Brooke.

Twenty minutes later the three were stepping lightly out of the car and onto the glimmering sand, the dazzling sun reflecting off the rippled surface. As Brooke's toes sank faintly into the white grains, she was reminded irresistibly of the dream she had had a few nights before. The unsettling feeling and the reason she had awoken so abruptly from the snowy dream world surfacing in her mind, she attempted to push back the queasy sensation now forming at the bottom of her stomach. They sauntered further down the beach, searching for the undeniable evidence of a familiar social gathering. They spotted a crowd surrounding an empty fire pit a good way away from the water. A salty breeze streamed magnificently over the crashing waves, gusting stunningly through the red, brown, and blonde heads of hair now approaching the group. Finally reaching the cheerful circle of laughing friends, all heads turned to stare at the on coming girls. The situation was unexpectedly awkward as Peyton, Brooke, and Haley approached the staring faces. "Peyton!" shouted an innocent-looking boy brown hair tussled casually. "Hey! Jake!" Peyton exclaimed gratefully, moving forward slightly to greet the guy Nathan had introduced her to earlier that afternoon. "Ya'll came, I'm glad," he said now turning to Brooke and Haley who were standing slightly back, still a bit unsure of the situation. Their uncomfortable faces melted into warm smiles as they took a few steps forward to join the now welcoming crowd, setting their towels and bags down in the shifting sand. Peyton looked around the circle gathered around the blackened pit, attempting to collect her bearings. She sat uncertainly next to Jake, the only person she recognized apart from her two friends. The group continued to laugh and joke, the three new arrivals gradually joining in as the initial discomfort dissolved.

Two tittering girls sat between three lively boys, joking and chatting about their various escapades. One girl had long yellow-blonde hair and sat especially close to the thin black boy with a shaved head, occasionally snuggling into his chest. The other girl, who's name Peyton had assessed to be Rachel, had shoulder length hair, so vibrantly red it made the sunset behind her seem orange. She seemed to be the most out going of the lot, joking crudely and flirting animatedly with the quiet spiky haired boy sitting farthest away from Peyton. She was not entirely sure if she was hearing right, but everyone seemed to be referring to him as Mouth. On Mouth's other side, closest to Brooke, lounging plainly on a navy towel, was Tim, smirking blandly at everyone else's comments. Nathan had apparently not shown up yet. "No Bevin, you cannot drink sea water, you would die" Rachel said pointedly to the blonde girl who was creasing her eyebrows in apparent confusion. The red head shook her locks, faintly irritated with her very blonde friend. "So Skills, tell me about Nebraska, think we're gunna beat 'em," Jake asked the black boy nestled into Bevin's side. "Oh my gosh, can we please not talk about basketball tonight, this is supposed to be your guys' night off" Bevin complained, looking up at her smirking boyfriend. The four guys laughed together, knowing the futility of attempting to restrain themselves from discussing the game. "All right, how about volleyball match? Chicks versus well you know…" Jake suggested, looking around the circle for accent. The girls grudgingly agreed, and the battle of the sexes was soon underway.

"How can you listen to this?" Nathan asked, covering his ears to protect them from the violating sounds and glancing over at his brother. Lucas grinned, bobbing his head enthusiastically to the beats radiating from the speakers. He focused on the endless white dashes painted on the asphalt as they drove, heading for the familiar spot on the beach. The sun was sinking into the water, growing redder with every passing minute, illuminating the gathering clouds. The windows of the car were rolled down, letting a healthy wind sweep through the confined space of Lucas' truck, disheveling their short hair. "You did invite Brooke right? And you asked her to bring Haley too?" Nathan asked after several minutes of comfortable silence. Lucas broken from his daze, "um, yeah I did, and yeah I asked her to" he finally replied after a moment of shaking his head to rid himself of his stupor. Nathan nodded approvingly before adding "oh, and I told Brooke's friend Peyton that she should come too." This jolted Lucas unexpectedly. "You did? When did you talk to her?" he asked hoping that he sounded offhand and unconcerned, though his stomach swooped uncomfortable at the mention of her name. "We ah…ran into each other this afternoon," he chortled remembering their brief but memorable encounter. Lucas looked strangely over at his brother, a vague smile still playing over his lips at the memory. Lucas creased his eyebrows elegantly, looking back to the road, "What are you smiling about?" he asked after another moment of peace. "Huh? Oh, nothing. So you and Brooke still on the rocks?" Nathan replied hoping to distract Lucas from the topic. He sighed tiredly, running a hand through his windswept head of hair before answering "I dunno, we're okay, I guess, I dunno." Nathan frowned at his sudden change in mood; he was now slouched sullenly in the driver's seat where a moment ago he had been singing along to the tune playing over the radio.

A few tense minutes later, Lucas finally parking the car on the side of the vacant road, the two boys padded out of the front seats, grabbing a bulky cooler and a couple of towels from the bed of the truck. The wind was dying down, the surface of the shining water nearly still. Rhythmic swells poured benignly over the packed sand near the surf. They made their way casually down the beach, sinking lightly into the white grains of sand as they walked. Nathan wore a pair of red basketball shorts topped with a roomy black t-shirt, a snug Lakers hat pulled backward over his hair. Lucas was clad in a lazy wife-beater, which strained suggestively over his chest and a pair of worn jeans, threadbare holes expanding in the knees. Both boys sported matching black flip-flops in honor of the location. They did not speak as they searched the sand for their usual fire pit, Lucas still brooding over him and Brooke. Spotting a distant crowd of familiar faces, they approached the laughing, falling, diving group gathered around a sagging volleyball net. Brooke attempted serve the ball to the opposing team, but accidentally hit Rachel on the back of the head, she collapsed in a fit of giggles, taking a howling Peyton down to the ground with her. Lucas felt his heart lift uncontrollably at the sight of a smiling Peyton, carefree and joyous as she wrestled playfully with her best friend.

The new arrivals were soon greeted merrily by the faintly sweaty group; they had been exerting themselves for about half and hour. Mostly they had been falling down, diving into the net, and chasing loose balls rather than actually playing. Brooke and Peyton stood, unbalanced, catching sight of the towering figures of Nathan and Lucas who were watching their tussle in the sand. Lucas' eyes were fixed intently on Peyton's figure; she had shed her clothes after the first five minutes of the game. She now wore only the bright bikini, simple and classic, highlighting her greatest asset, her slender legs. He was utterly hypnotized at the sight. "Hey you finally made it! I was starting to worry" Brooke exclaimed, bounding over to embrace her wordless boyfriend, Lucas' eyes never leaving Peyton's rigid body. The crowd gradually moved from the match, abandoning the flattened volleyball and settled around the still empty fire pit.

"_Angel pumping gas…_"sang a swaying Haley, the cooler Nathan and Lucas had brought now half empty. The group chuckled at her obviously delirious state. The night was thick, blackness encircling the flickering fire and the joking kids sitting huddled around it. The dark pressed in on them from all sides, capturing the ring of dancing orange light. Haley stood up to flounce around the flames, Skills, Mouth, and Tim catcalling and whooping as she crooned _"…why won't this moment last…" _Peyton was again sitting closely next to Jake, a flannel blanket now pulled around both of them, drawing them even nearer. They talked intimately between laughing at the group jokes and a staggering musical Haley. Lucas was lounging indifferently next to Brooke, his legs stretched out, supporting his back with his elbows digging into the sand all while gazing fixedly at the couple across the fire. _"…Your deep blue eyes have left me in a trance," _Peyton could feel his severe stare boring into her as she chatted happily with Jake, who seemed oblivious to the stagnant atmosphere between the two blondes. She flicked her head to glare pointedly at Lucas, warning him to remove his threatening leer. Noticing that Brooke seemed merry enough, adding points to the lively conversation, even though she was quite detached from the boy sitting next to her, Peyton shook her gleaming curls and turned her attention back. Lucas had no idea why, but an overpowering feeling of jealousy was rising in him, suffocating his calm demeanor. "So Jake, what ever happened with you and Niki?" Lucas asked knowingly, abruptly shifting Jake's attention onto him rather than the girl sitting next to him. He gaped, open mouthed, at the Lucas' triumphant smirk for a moment, words seeming to escape him. Nathan nudged his brother in the ribs, trying to convey that this was not a fitting discussion for tonight. But Lucas ignored his warning.

The tone of the gathering now very anxious, Peyton shot a look of disdain over at Lucas, all eyes in the circle now darting back and forth between him and Jake, as though observing a sparing match. "Lucas, shut up," Peyton stated, she did not raise her voice, it was just a simple request. He laughed coldly, "Or else you'll scratch my eyes out?" She narrowed her gaze, incensed by his contempt. "Hey, don't put it past me. Don't make me bite your head off" she retorted, anger now rising into her cheeks. Lucas positively shouted with mirth, "Will you? Does that cost extra, Peyt?" he snapped back. Brooke's eyes were now wide as her mouth fell watching the heated conversation, taking place across the fire between the girl she loved and the man who had her heart. "Luke, what is wrong with you" she asked, pushing his arm roughly, clearly upset by his vulgarity toward her best friend. He rolled his eyes at her, trying to convey that the whole thing was just a joke, "come on Brooke, I'm just kidding," he pleaded. "Whatever" was her only reply as she turned her head to avoid looking at him. Peyton was shaking furiously, her wild hair ruffled with frustration, "you're unbelievable. You can be such a jackass." Lucas simply shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and uninterested, but catching the blaze behind her glassy hazel eyes. Peyton rose to her feet angrily, letting her half of the blanket fall to the sand. Opening her mouth to add another insult, she thought better of it and stormed off into the darkness before anyone could stop her. _"Angel pumping gas!" _shouted a nervous Haley, desperately wanting to break the tension in the group. Nathan laughed blissfully at the beautiful, albeit drunk, girl skipping around madly. The severe atmosphere grudgingly melted away.

"Should I go after her?" Jake asked the group at large, very unsure of how to help the situation. Brooke waved her hand heedlessly, "no, you should let her cool off. Trust me I've been friends with her long enough to know how to handle angry Peyton." He nodded sadly, accepting her best friend's advice, and flopped back down to stare blankly into the flames. Brooke was still resolutely ignoring Lucas, who could not have cared less, but sat menacingly glaring at Jake. Haley was now spinning joyously, arms spread wide as though in welcome while staring up at the specks of light scattered high above her in the sky. Nathan watched her happily, her auburn hair flying wildly as she twirled in place. Leaning over to Brooke, he asked, "Is Haley always like this?" She inclined her head to look at her friend, clearly enjoying herself under the influence of five beers. Chuckling faintly she replied, "You mean sloshed?" "No, well yeah, that too, but I meant is she always this…happy" Nathan whispered, he was very taken with Haley's limitless spirit. She smiled deliberately and nodded, her grin spreading further across her face, "yeah, almost always," answering his questioning stare. At that moment Haley collapsed, exhausted, next to a beaming Nathan who made room for her to lean against his chest. Looking dizzily up to gaze at his upside down face smiling down at her, Haley managed to slur out "you're very pretty, you know that?" before closing her eyes and resting in the security of his muscular arms. Nathan smiled contently, pleased that she was calm and peaceful pressed against him, rather than slumped over a counter.

Lucas clambered to his feet crossly, feeling restless and irritable sitting around the smoldering fire. He headed out toward the ocean, the muggy darkness swallowing his retreating back. At the moment, he would have liked nothing more than to walk into the breaking surf and let the icy water consume his body. Wandering somewhat aimlessly, still clutching his untouched drink in one hand, he kicked a cloud of sand angrily, taking out his frustrations. 'Why did I have to be that way?' he wondered desperately, completely at a loss as to why he had attacked Jake and Peyton. 'Why did it bother me so much to see them together?' he reflected even more distractedly. His disjointed feet carried him through the shallow tide, soaking the bottom of his jeans, without his mind registering where he was. He pressed his knuckles forcefully into the sockets of his eyes, wanting to erase the past fifteen minutes. Ruffling his hair irritably for the millionth time, he found himself staring at the faint outline of a shack looming up in the thick gloom. He approached the cramped building, realizing that it was a seasonal surf shack. He crept along the side running his hand over the faded stucco, coarse grit scraping beneath his fingers. Turning a corner, he jumped back in surprise as he faced a fuming Peyton, her golden mane crackling with shocked fury. She opened her mouth passionately, fully intending to tell him off again, but Lucas spun around, wanting to sprint away from the irate shouts of the blonde. "I hate you!" she screamed at his tense back. He halted immediately, letting her shout sink into his already saturated brain. Rotating slowly to face her again, his eyes dark, concentrated, deep, he took a few strides closer to her. He wanted to look into her eyes, he needed to, he needed to see the truthfulness of her statement behind them, but search as he might, nowhere in the depths of her glinting eyes could he find a trace of hatred.

He reached out feverishly, desiring to feel her body pressed flush against his. Sweeping his hand adoringly through her ringlets, he drew himself nearer to her lips. But Peyton raised both hands, palms pressed flat against his heaving chest in protest. "Stop it! What the hell do you think you're doing!" she screeched, staggering backward hurriedly, away from his grasping hands. Taken aback by her actions, a pained expression swept over his features. He started towards her again beseeching her, "Peyton…please. I'm sorry." "That's great, you're sorry. You think you can just apologize and everything is magically okay again?! You can't treat people like this Lucas! Now get away from me!" she continued to cry until he was near enough to try to kiss her again. Grabbing the sides of her face brutally, the same passionate way he had at the party, he attempted to crash his lips on hers. Peyton broke free and swung her arm back to slap him hard across the face. Her palm connected agonizingly with his cheek, the force of the strike whipping his head to the side. Aghast at her actions, she raised the same hand to her lips, pressing the back to her mouth, horrified. Lucas placed a callous hand over his stinging skin, turning to look at a shocked Peyton. His eyes welling with aching tears, he stared into her wide hazel eyes, a look of miserable rejection marring his handsome face. She reeled back, the raw emotion of his damaged soul scaring her more than an expression of fury would have. She took a hasty step backward into the sand. An intense pang of physical pain shot up Peyton's leg sending her tumbling severely to the ground. "Peyton!" Lucas shouted, his own throbbing face forgotten at the sight of her crashing down in pain. She clutched her wounded foot vehemently, hurt overwhelming her senses. He lunged forward towards the fallen girl, Peyton gripping his shoulder violently, needing to grasp onto something solid.

Kneeling down in front of the cringing girl, Lucas tried to get a look at the injury. It was dark, too dark to see properly, so he took out his phone to illuminate her clearly bleeding foot. "Here, calm down and let me look at it," he pleaded as calmly as he could, attempting to quiet her shaking body. He squinted down, dark streams of blood pouring from a gash in the arch of her left foot. He looked up into her distressed face, "there's a piece of glass in it," he said as evenly as he could muster, "let's get you back to the fire." Peyton gripped Lucas' arm tighter, biting her bottom lip while trying to stand but fell almost instantly, a faint whimper escaping her lips but she stifled it quickly, not wanting to break down completely. "Okay, okay, sit down. I'm gunna try and get it out" he told her, gathering his courage as he spoke. He lifted the wound, bracing the back of her leg with one hand and placing two fingers and his thumb tenderly on the shard of glass protruding from her skin. Collecting his nerve, he said "all right on three. One…two…three" and he yanked the sharp splinter out of her flesh. Cringing horribly at her nails digging into his arm, Lucas let her clutch onto him, trying his best not to make a sound of objection as the ache washed over her. He gathered her trembling body in his arms, discarding the bloody glass as far away as he could throw it and held her tightly until her panting subsided. Erecting herself after a minute of silent enduring, she looked up into his concerned face. "Thank…thank you" she managed to stutter. Lucas smiled kindly down at her, unwilled tears brimming in the corner of her eyes.

"Here" he offered gently, picking up the untainted cup that he had been carrying around earlier. Peyton raised her eyebrows, anxious as to what he was going to do next, "what's that for?" she asked tremulously. "It's vodka; the alcohol will sterilize the cut. And it'll get the sand out" he answered her question as soothingly as he could. She gripped his shoulder harshly again as the stinging liquid washed away the freely flowing blood. Her breathing steadied as the pain in her foot eased. "You're lucky" Lucas started, grinning as she recovered from the episode, "it really wasn't very deep." Peyton chuckled reassuringly, wanting to let him know that the pain was not unbearable. Their deep eyes met in a candid instant. But she looked away a moment later, tears splashing freely down her cheeks. "Peyton?" Lucas asked tentatively, confused as to why she was sobbing now but had not let herself cry as he pulled the shard out of her aching skin. Elevating her watery eyes to his, she cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Lucas. I can't do this. I can't be here with you." Bewildered, he moved closer to her, brushing away the streams of tears from her delicate cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Hey, hey, for what? Why are you sorry?" he asked in a low comforting voice. She continued to weep silently, and he banished another hot tear, combing a stray curl from her forehead as his hand moved into her hair. As though dangerously apprehensive, they hesitantly moved closer, their heads tilting slightly in opposite directions as their faces drew nearer. Lips touching lovingly, they pressed their sensitive skin serenely against the other's in the most intimate kiss either had every experienced.

Their lips met again, wordlessly reconciling their conflict the way their pride would never have let them. Lucas moved his other hand to run through her soft locks, lightly skimming the apple of her cheek. Peyton parted her lips, allowing him to build the passion of their kiss as his tongue roamed her open mouth. Pressing her smoothly down to the ground, he cushioned the back of her neck as her head fell softly into the sand. Lucas' rough hand traveled sweetly over her bare stomach as he cherished every inch of sun-touched skin he grazed. Kissing eagerly down his striking jaw, Peyton let her tongue tease and tickle his pounding pulse, tasting the salt of his seductive perspiration. He moaned her name hoarsely, taking in her intoxicating scent. Lust quickly overtaking their lingering feelings of guilt, all thought of a certain dimpled brunette were soon erased from both their minds as want assailing their feverish bodies. Lucas trailed passionate kisses down to her shoulders, lightly nipping at her silky skin, leaving small love bites to mark their ardor. Peyton's hands were riffling through his sandy blonde hair as they swept adoringly over the back of his head. Moving her hands over his solid shoulders, she sighed, feeling the rigid muscles beneath her touch. They traveled further down his back to the rim his shirt. She lifted the sheer fabric, her cold hands shocking him as she pulled impatiently at his wife-beater. Peyton gasped openly as his hard body was revealed, warmth glowing off his searing flesh. Lucas unexpectedly ceased his attack on her bruised lips. He cupped her stunning face in his hands, wanting to gaze genuinely into her eyes. "Peyton…" he started, his voice raspy and dark with desire. She knew what he was going to ask. She answered his question with a deep kiss as he moved to apply himself over her body. Their passion was finally unleash as harsh waves crashed over the glistening surface of wet sand, reflecting the glowing Carolina moon hanging high above them.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: For those of you who are still craving a more detailed Leyton love scene, I have posted a mature excerpt of the end of this chapter in the M rating category so that I would not have to transfer the entire story. So if you're jonesin' for a steamy love scene, ya'll can check it out. It is titled _Vapor Trail: Ch. 5 love scene excerpt._**


	6. Old Scars from Past Lives

**A/N: You readers ROCK! And I hope you know that. :) I apologize for the long delay in getting to this chapter, I really have no excuse so I'm just gunna say sorry. Sorry. A few things to note about the back story: Peyton grew up in the same town as her brother Derek, but she was still raised by Larry and Anna and Derek still lived with his mom, but they knew each other. Everything that went on with Peyton's moms still happened (Anna died when Peyton was 9 and Ellie died of cancer when Peyton was in high school). So I think that's it. Enjoy reading!**

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

Pale flecks of light glimmered distantly, lost in the depths of the dark sky. The gentle sparks winked benignly, watching the earth from their secluded places high above. The sweet scent of burning drift wood and the tangy aroma of approaching rainfall mingled in the air, the perfect marriage of present and future. White noise pressed in on the blanketing shadows, breaking water bathing the shore in dull foam. Two bodies lay entangled, melting into the flowing white sand. Their breathing was even and measured, calm and content, fused as one. Lucas' chest rose and fell rhythmically, lifting Peyton's head as he inhaled and letting it fall again after each sigh. Her cheek was pressed flush against his bare chest as she listened to the steady pounding of his heart, easing her into a peaceful lull. Holding her securely in his muscular arms, Lucas clung to Peyton's small frame as though frightened the precious moment would fade if he dared loosen his grip. Reality fell away as the two blondes lay together, their eyes shut against the pending nightmare awaiting them back at the fire. They teetered on this fleeting moment of bliss, exultant and lost in the divine warmth of their naked bodies. Tearing herself unwillingly out of the dim atmosphere of stillness, Peyton called out, her voice seemingly very distant, "Lucas?" He inhaled her sweet scent, her quiet voice stirring his senses. "Hmmm?" he finally answered softly without opening his eyes. "They'll start worrying about us" she managed to whisper, still wanting nothing more than to remain pressed against his cradling chest. Lucas heaved a sigh, knowing that their quiet moment together had ended but refusing to relax his grip around her. "Yeah…I know" he admitted sadly.

Opening her eyes and raising her head from its position atop his body to gaze into his peaceful face, Peyton smiled serenely watching Lucas' beautiful features. He felt her intense, staring eyes on him and lifted his eyelids to look at her, a placid smile painting her smooth lips. The corners of his own mouth were pulled irresistibly upward seeing her hushed expression. Lifting a broad hand to her messy curls, Lucas combed his fingers through her wild mane as he lifted her face closer to his. Peyton let him draw her nearer, eager to meet his expectant lips with her own. He grazed her delicate skin in a sweeping kiss; kind and sensuous but faint as the fading moment around them. Pulling him in again, she pressed her mouth more passionately against his, unwilling to release the newfound feeling of serenity she had stumbled upon with him. They held their tragic kiss for lingering minute before hesitantly pulling away from the embrace. Peyton looked away dejectedly and began searching for her discarded clothing. Lucas watched her desperate hunt silently, his shimmering eyes memorizing every elegant curve of her body. His gaze fell upon the pale gash of discolored skin below her left knee. "Peyton…" he asked tentatively not wanting to probe too far into the protective armor which guarded her tender heart. "Hmm?" she answered absently without looking up from gathering her scattered clothing. He hesitated before continuing the unfinished question, his curiosity overwhelming the wariness of her protective walls. "How did you get this?" he finished, gently running his middle finger over the shiny pink tissue blemishing her leg. "Oh, um… it's just a scar from…the past" she answered incomprehensibly, not meeting his eyes as she spoke to the ground behind her shoulder, moving away from his gentle touch. Now was not the time to relive those awful memories.

Deciding not to push the subject, Lucas simply nodded sadly and motioned to help Peyton as she attempted to stand. He braced her against his body, one arm encircled securely around her waist while holding her hand gently within his. "Think you can make it back?" he questioned, his voice full of a previously foreign concern. Peyton grimaced as she put weight gingerly on her injured foot. Looking up to gauge the distance back to the fire she shook her head in defeat. Wordlessly, Lucas bent down and scooped her tiny frame into his arms, enticing a faint gasp from her as her body left the ground. It was remarkable how incredibly light she felt as he lifted her lanky form and cradled her benignly into his body. Placing an arm tenderly around his straining neck, Peyton could not help but feel warm and sheltered pressed so tightly against his inviting chest. She let her head fall meekly onto his shoulder, her eyes closing instinctively as they made their way back to the fire.

Haley was again unconscious and slumped dispassionately over Nathan's legs, her head resting in his lap as she dozed peacefully. A tragic smile played over his lips as he looked down into her untroubled face, eyes closed and chest rising and falling steadily. Her quiet warmth pinned his body down on the sand, and he was quite incapable of moving from their intimate position. Brooke nursed her half-empty cup of unknown contents while staring blankly into the dying embers of the bonfire. Leaning back resignedly, she let her head swivel to meet the sight of Haley asleep in Nathan's lap. She clucked her tongue unconsciously and took another bitter swig. Revived from his daze, Nathan looked up at the clearly bothered girl sprawled out next to him, a silky sheet of dark hair partially obscuring the crease between her eyebrows. "I'm sorry" he offered, he knew full well the effect his brother had on members of the fairer sex. Brooke looked up at the sound of his delicate voice, slightly confused as to the meaning of his words. "Hmm? For what?" she asked finally piecing together the aim of his statement. Nathan pursed his lips lightly, knowing that it was not his place to make amends for anything that his jerk of a brother was up to with this beautiful, beautiful girl, "for Luke…and the way he is." Letting her eyes fall as though embarrassed, she nodded sadly. "At least the jackass gene wasn't passed along to you, right?" she offered with a small smile, flicking her eyes up to Nathan's concerned face. He grinned weakly and lifted his eyes to gaze at the starry night. "Yeah, I got all the good genes: smarts, good looks, a killer jump shot" his smile broadened as he listed his many attributes, both snorted with mirth. "Riiight, guess I should go a bit easier on him considering he got majorly stiffed in the gene pool" she said, her light voice dripping with sarcasm. "Heck no, he could use a good blow to his ego" Nathan said, earning him a shriek of laughter and a coy smile from Brooke.

Lucas bit his bottom lip as the sparkle of approaching orange light became larger and larger. He was vaguely concerned about how people around the fire would react to the girl he had been quarreling with not so long ago held protectively in his arms. Unwilling to disturb her peaceful demeanor, he trudged on across the dark sand. At that moment, for the briefest of instances he felt an unexplainable familiarity with this girl held in his arms and her golden head resting against his shoulder. But feeling her stir into awareness, the fragile moment of deja vu vanished like a wisp of smoke. "Lucas?" Peyton's sudden voice startled him into stillness. Her tone was anxious rather as one who has discovered their lover missing from bed in the early hours of morning. "Put me down," she pleaded quietly, burying her face against his shoulder. "What? No, Peyton you can't walk," he protested, still reluctant to set her on her feet. "I'll be fine, please. We can't…" she drifted off but he understood. Grudgingly, he bent his knees and placed her tenderly onto the sand, her body still pressed close against his. Slinging one arm around his neck, as she was still unable to walk on her own, he wrapped an arm firmly around her slender waist. Back at the fire pit, Jake was fidgeting moodily with a stray thread from his blanket. A faint, lopsided figure was approaching the fire from down the beach. Jake looked up from his silent brooding to squint into the obscuring gloom. 'Peyton and…Lucas?' he imagined, very wrong-footed and wondering for a moment if the world had gone crazy. "Peyton?" he called out to the night. "Hey" came a faint reply as the figures of a limping Peyton being supported by Lucas' broad arms became illuminated by the dim light of the sputtering embers.

"What's wrong?!" "What happened?!" "Where were you?" Questions flew at them from Jake, Nathan, and Brooke, most of the others seemed a bit too intoxicated to give notice to the returning couple. "Oh, I stepped on a piece of glass" Peyton replied quickly, attempting to play it off as nothing of great importance or interest. "…And Lucas found me alone on the beach" she added hurriedly. Lucas stayed silent, his eyes moving from the questioning gaze of his brother to the confused expression on his girlfriend's face and finally back to his own feet. Jake jumped up and practically pried Peyton away from Lucas' sheltering arms to help her hobble closer to the low flames. "You need stitches," he confessed, examining her wounded foot in the glowing light of the fire. Shaking her head slightly she said "oh no, I don't think it's all that bad." Brooke scooted closer to her oddly unconcerned best friend, biting her lip as she studied the bloody mess. "Yeah, you do P.," she slurred, averting her eyes from the already swollen wound. Noiselessly, Lucas sat next to Nathan, his full attention fixed on the contact between Peyton and Jake. He gave no inclination that he noticed the unconscious girl sprawled out between his brother's legs. Tilting his head vaguely to the side, Nathan was aghast to discover several unmistakable, bright red streaks running the length of Lucas' back. His eyes widened and he was unable to stifle a sharp intake of breath at the sight of deep crescent shaped welts adorning his shoulder blades.

"Come on I'll take you to the hospital," Jake's voice interrupted Nathan's horrified fascination as his head flicked back to stare at the struggling figures across the fire. "Hold up dawg. How we supposed to get home?" Skills asked as Jake braced Peyton against his body. He stood for a moment, thinking hard about the presented dilemma. "Can you catch a ride with Mouth?" Jake pleaded, knowing that Bevin, Skills, and Tim were in no state to hang out in the ER for an hour. "Can't, I brought the Comet; it only seats two" Mouth answered, slightly apologetic. "What if you take those three home," pointing towards the three teens to his right, "I take Rach, Nathan drives Brooke and Haley home in Peyton's car, and Luke can take Peyton to the hospital," he suggested after a moment of contemplating. Peyton turned her head quickly to stare at Lucas, his eyes wide and fearful at the implications of the proposal. "Sounds good," Rachel cut in unexpectedly before anyone could object to the plan. "You okay with that?" Jake asked the girl hanging on to his shoulder for support, his forehead knotted with concern. Peyton nodded mutely and sank down to gather her towel and beach bag. The new angle of her neck displayed several dark bruises on her skin, bites which had been shielded by the cascade of soft curls. Clenching his jaw convulsively but unable to look away, Jake decided not to comment on the unmistakable marks of passion, as no one else in the group seemed to have noticed the vice. "You'll be alright, right?" Brooke asked tremulously, knowing full well that Peyton could hardly bare to be in the same room with Lucas. "Yeah, I'll be fine" she answered, hoisting herself up from the ground and offering her best friend a small smile of reassurance. Brooke nodded once and added "I'll wait up" before swaying over to help Nathan heave Haley to her feet.

Slouching unbalanced in the folds of the faded blue seats of Lucas' truck, Peyton leaned her brow against the cool glass of the passenger's window, watching dark shapes race past as they drove the lonely highway. The cold hard surface seemed to ease the growing ach in her skull. Their close proximity was unnaturally and unexplainably awkward. Shifting his gaze away from the road ahead, Lucas stole a glance over at the lopsided blonde seated so near him, easily within reach of a comforting arm. His breath hitched at the sudden pressure constricting his chest at the sight of Peyton's detached posture, and immediately redirected his stare to the spheres of light illuminating the black asphalt. He was at a complete loss for words, his mind virtually bursting with things needing to be said, but his mouth was oddly dry and incapable of forming any sound. Peeling back the towel from her throbbing foot, Peyton examined the puffy sole, the deep gash nauseatingly blatant. Her bloodless hand traveled up the length of her lean calf, coming to rest upon the smooth expanse of tissue just below her left knee. This was yet another scar, so much pain, so much loneliness, so much damn fear. The furious thoughts swirling around her brain were drawn irresistibly to that day, the infamous day her freshmen year in high school.

_Flashback_

_She sat alone, huddled against a low bookshelf, desperately hiding from the horror that had broken through the safety and security of the familiar doors of her high school. Warmth left her exhausted body, flooding through the open wound in her leg, a bullet wound. The raw, bloody flesh seared as dark dribbles leaked onto the fine grey carpet of the library. She was alone, all alone, and every passing minute left her weaker and more forlorn, giving up on any hope that she would make it out of the school again. Letting her eyes close, unable resist the feverish desire to sleep any longer, visions of her life passed through her mind: Brooke and Haley at a slumber party, white feathers floating through the air like snow; her mother's grave, framed with delicate purple flowers peeking through the grass; her father's cherry red mustang glinting in the fading sun; her father's smiling face as he chased her with the garden hose in summer; the midnight drive in the pouring rain with Ellie; the fine crease between her brother's eyebrows as he read; his distant voice, calling, pleading with her to wake up. And then he was there. She lifted her heavy eyelids to meet the distressed face of her older brother, towering over her with a baseball bat held loosely in on hand. "Peyton?" he cried, immediately collapsing down into the pool of blood next to his baby sister, shuddering and pale. "I can't walk, I tried" Peyton sobbed, urgently grasping his quivering shoulder. "Derek, it was your friend. The one from the time capsule, he had the gun. But he didn't look evil or angry, he just looked scared," she breathed, her voice hardly above a whisper. And then she was drowning in darkness again, and remembered no more. _

_End of flashback_

"Hey," Lucas hazy voice pulled her mind from the smothering memories. Peyton gasped lightly at being wrenched from her silent thoughts. Looking over to the driver's seat she gave a weak half-smile, still lingering in her previous daze. "We're here," he stated shortly, faintly concerned at her removed state of mind. Peyton motioned to open her door but Lucas jumped out of the truck and was outside her door, offering his help in a flash. She muttered a "thanks," while easing her weight out of the tall cab. "Here," he said boldly, lifting her tiny frame into his muscular arms for the second time that night and carrying her into the brightly lit building. Sitting slumped in a hard plastic chair in the hospital waiting room; Lucas glanced absently over the outdated magazines covering a rickety table to his left. The bland scent of disinfectant and bleach mingled with the smell of stale coffee. He bounced his knee nervously, wearily propping his head up with his opposite arm. The doctors had been inconveniently insistent that only family members be allowed to accompany the patient into the clinic, even for such a simple procedure as sutures. Lucas' attention was momentarily drawn to a tall, dark body clad all in green camouflage, rushing through the automatic doors of the emergency room, clearly in a frantic state. After a few hurried words with the receptionist, he disappeared through the double doors separating the waiting room from the patients. A stumpy woman in a white lab coat with a stethoscope hung around her neck strutted briskly up to where Lucas sat. "You can see your girlfriend now," she said instantly, not bothering to give information or comfort to the young man, and turned to lead him to Peyton's bed.

"She's not…not my girlfriend, she's just…" Lucas started to correct but stopped short, catching the plainly uninterested look the woman shot him over her shoulder. She pointed irritably to an occupied bed near a dark window before striding off to attend to something she clearly thought to be of much more importance than a piece of glass through the foot. The sheer privacy curtains were pulled half-closed around the uncomfortable looking hospital bed, partially shielding Peyton from the hustle of the ER. About to pull back the cream-colored curtain, Lucas stilled instantly at the sound of a deep masculine laugh on the other side. Slanting his head slightly, he could make out a pair of broad, dark hands clasping Peyton's delicate fingers. Lucas shut his vaguely gaping mouth, utterly bewildered by the situation. He shuffled his feet unsurely, wondering if he should disturb the joyful couple, or simply leave them to themselves. He had just decided to turn his back and walk away when Peyton spotted his lurking form from around the drape. "Hey, Luke! What are you doing?" she asked, laughing at his puzzled face. The black youth sitting next to Peyton's bed was the same frantic man he had seen earlier dashing through the waiting room. "Oh…I was just…" he threw his thumb over his shoulder to indicate he didn't mean to intrude upon their cheerful conversation. Peyton smiled broadly, ushering him closer to her bed side "come here, meet my brother." "This is Derek," she exclaimed with an air of presenting the president of the United States. Derek extended a hand to grasp Lucas', "Lance Corporeal Sommers," he greeted. "Sommers?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, half-brother" Peyton shrugged nonchalantly as though the 'half' part was of no real importance, "the hospital called him cuz he's my emergency contact," she continued to explain. He nodded, his initial confusion evaporating as his mind clicked into place. "Listen, thanks for taking care of her. I know Peyton is a bit…accident prone," Derek spoke to Lucas, but his beaming face never left his sister's. Lucas simply grinned.

A bizarre many limbed, three headed figure burst into the dark sitting room of Brooke and Peyton's apartment. One form was laughing uncontrollably while swaying from side to side, apparently attempting to find something on the wall. Brooke flicked on the light switch, bathing the room with a dazzling yellow glow. Haley was hung between the mismatched shoulders of Nathan and Brooke, stumbling along through the doorway, head falling disconsolately. Nathan was trying fruitlessly to stifle his own hilarity, but eventually failing as he let out a loud howl of laughter. "I swear…I thought…we were…on the…third…floor" Brooke gasped between fits of giggling. "Didyouseehisface?" Nathan shrieked in one long drawn out stream of words. The three had inadvertently discovered that the university apartments all had the exact same locks for each floor. Consequently, when Brooke had miscounted the flights of stairs they had barged in on a couple clearly in the middle of… "What do you think they were going to do with inflatable sheep?" Nathan asked still grinning broadly at the dimpled brunette supporting her friend across the room. Brooke smirked, finally catching her breath. "I can think of a couple things," she teased, immediately sending both of them into shrieks of laughter again. Haley groaned woozily as her friends lay her gently down in Peyton's empty bed. "I'm sure Peyton will love coming home to find this waiting for her," Nathan started, grinning guiltily. "It'll be ok," Brooke answered, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed and brushing a stray lock of ginger hair out of Haley's slumbering face. A new and unplanned emotion swelled in his chest as he watched Brooke's tender regard for her friend, her innocent doe eyes rising to meet his admiring gaze.

Peyton and Lucas again found themselves in the confined space of Lucas' truck, speeding along a deserted back road. "So Derek…" Lucas began slowly, "…he's…" but he drifted off again. Peyton chuckled at his apparent inability to start up the thorny conversation. "Not what you expected?" she asked grinning over at Lucas' disconcerted face, still focused on the road ahead. Returning the smile, he shook his head. "Same biological father, different mothers, his mom is African American" Peyton continued to explain. Lucas bit his bottom lip, taking in her words and nodding. "So you two are close?" he asked after a minute. "Yeah, well, we are now but we didn't really get to know each other until I was about nine and Derek was twelve," she answered. Lucas raised his eyebrows, slightly puzzled. Peyton elaborated, "He grew up with his mom and I was adopted by another family. So, we didn't really grow up together but we lived in the same town. It's all pretty messed up and complicated, but now we're really close." Lucas made a small noise of ascent and understanding. Not wanting to let the conversation lull back into the awkward silence like the one they endured while driving to the hospital, he asked "so he's in the Army?" Peyton shook her head, sending her ringlets into a daze around her face. "No, he's a Marine" she corrected. "Ah," it was the only reply his brain could muster. The churning mass of thoughts and feelings inside him was bursting to erupt from his mouth at any moment. He had to say something to her, he just had to, but…he couldn't. "Peyton, tonight…" it was no use holding them back any longer as he felt the words tumbling from his mouth, unable to stop the flow. "Moment of weakness, right?" she cut in instantly, as though she had been expecting this ever since they arrived back at the fire. "Yeah," Lucas' mind was working very slowly and seemed to be operating on autopilot. Peyton looked away from him out the black window. "Listen, let's just bury it and pretend it didn't happen, okay?" she spoke to the glass. "Sure," he agreed quickly. Why? Why was he agreeing to this, to bury what happened? But try as he might to recant his words, he could only nod sadly and continue their drive home through the suffocating darkness.

Ten silent minutes later, Lucas turned the sharp corner onto the street of his girlfriend's apartment complex, Peyton biting her thumb nail anxiously next to him. Gathering his courage for one last bravado, he started "Peyton, I…" "Don't! It was stupid, it didn't mean anything" she interrupted him again, determined not to let him talk her out of her resolve. "It didn't?" he asked while looking straight ahead, a heartbreaking sting lacing his words. Peyton glanced over to his strong profile; eyes dim with hurt and angst. "Of course it did" she muttered to her own clasped hands. Whipping his head around quickly to stare at her, Lucas watched as Peyton scrambled out the car door, head down and eyes squeezed shut as though fighting back a storm of emotions. She was already walking away as quickly as her injured foot would allow when he called out to her. "I lied," he stated simply, "I can't bury what happened between us." Peyton spun slowly on the spot to meet the desperate expression veiling his face. She took a tentative step closer to him, back towards the street. "Lucas, Brooke is my best friend and she's your girlfriend," she said, determined to make him understand. "I know, but…" he tried but was cut off yet again. "But nothing, that's where we're at right now. It's not fair to her to make a big deal out of what happened. It didn't mean anything. I'm sorry," Peyton said once again, as though trying to persuade herself as much as him that her words were the truth.

And with that she turned her back on him, fully intending to just walk away when… "Peyton…" Lucas cried, gentle grasping her upper arm and whirling her around to face him. Forcing his lips swiftly onto her delicate mouth, he held her to him, wanting nothing more than to show her, to prove to her that she was wrong. He released his hold upon her, easing distance between their bodies, searching her deep hazel eyes, searching for a flicker of hope, a dark glint of want, searching for anything. Irresistibly, Peyton pulled him back to her, locking her lips firmly against his. Their faces parted, an alluring grin spreading across Lucas' face. "See, it does mean something" he whispered, his voice full of unrestrained happiness. "It can't," worry filled her simple syllables. "But it does," he eased. She could not fool him or herself anymore, they both knew that night could never be buried and it would be hopeless to try. "Lucas, you're dating Brooke" she reminded him guiltily, staring intensely through his blue eyes to his raw soul. Tilting his head faintly to one side, he let his eyes roam her beautiful face before continuing. The night around them was quiet and still and seemed to be listening to every whisper of their conversation. "I know, and she's great…" he teetered for a moment, "but she's not you," he finally admitted with an unabashed smile. Peyton beamed unwillingly back at hearing his blind confession and the swell of joy in her own heart.

Brooke sat curled beneath a thin blanket in the grey armchair in the corner of their apartment sitting room, waiting up for her best friend as she promised she would. She would not have been able to sleep anyway as too many thoughts were still rumbling around her head. A weak noise startled her attention in the direction of Peyton's room, the door slightly ajar. Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, Brooke stood and shuffled off to check on a sleeping Haley. She hovered over the huddled lump beneath Peyton's scarlet comforter, watching the steady rise and fall of her friend's breathing. Nathan had wanted to stay to watch her through the night and also to keep Brooke company while she waited for news on Peyton, but Brooke would not let him wait up with her. Uncontrollable, undefined feelings grew within her whenever their eyes met or when he flashed her a brilliant smile. But Nathan's eyes were his brother's eyes, her boyfriend's eyes, and nothing could ever happen between them. Imagining that she had heard the slamming of a car door, Brooke tottered over to the window, the only one in the apartment that overlooked the street. Her heart stopped beating.


	7. All My Bad Habits

**A/N: So I bet you all thought I had given up on this story. Not so, not so. I deeply apologize for the very extended summer hiatus and for the fact that this fanfic had to take a back seat to the various opportunities summer provides. I hope with all of my heart that there are still readers for this story because I really do love writing it and you readers are the main reason I keep going. Hopefully this chapter will have been worth waiting for, and if it's not I owe you all...A LOT. So thank you for your continued support and please let me know what you think because I love reading reviews and I love hearing your opinions and thoughts. **

The thin air of the sitting room felt horribly stagnant. The wavering street lamps outside the apartment shimmered on the surface of the drowning black asphalt. Casting their beams through the open blinds veiling the broad window, the quivering lights filled the otherwise dark room with a sickly, orange glow. Silence pressed in upon Brooke's senses, leaving nothing but the sound of her own measured breathing and pulse thrumming in her ears. She sat stiffly in the squashy grey armchair, her arms folded across her chest protectively as she stared fixedly at the front door, waiting for it to open, yet dreading the moment she would have to greet the familiar, curly head of her best friend. The doorknob rattled gently before slowly rotating of its own accord. The door hesitantly creaked open a few inches, creating a sliver of space between the rim of the door and its frame, through which a fairly thin person could barely squeeze. Peyton slid her lanky form through the crack, attempting to quiet her footfalls and avoid waking anyone. She was so intent on remaining silent that she took no notice of the dark, glaring figure sitting with arms crossed in the corner of the room behind her. Attempting to muffle the click of the latch gliding back into place, she pressed a trembling hand flush against the surface of the door.

Peyton spun around to face the sitting room and jumped considerably out of fright as she met the menacing form of Brooke. Her heart in her throat, Peyton pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to calm her furious heartbeat. Brooke rose to her feet purposefully, eyes flickering with a hidden fire. "Hey," she whispered softly, watching her best friend's surprised reaction at seeing her awake and waiting for her. "You're up late," Peyton finally greeted after catching her breath and recovering from her initial shock. Ignoring the statement, Brooke started speaking very quickly as though unable to control the torrent of thought about to be unleashed, "lucky thing, Luke finding you on the beach like that. If he hadn't come along, who knows what might have happened." Brooke finished her discourse, gazing intently at the towering girl facing her, though her stature seemed oddly diminished from its usual, intimidating height. Peyton nodded, attempting to force a small smile. "Everything turned out okay," she replied meekly. "No, not really," Brooke's eyes narrowed darkly as she spoke. After a pause she continued, "I don't know what hurts worse: you and Lucas sneaking around behind my back, or you lying about it to my face," her voice was bitter and cutting, the bleak ache of betrayal leaking through her words. Peyton's mouth slackened, leaving her gaping abhorrently at Brooke's resentful face. "Brooke…" she started but was cut off. "I know you were together tonight. I saw you kissing him outside." She waited for Peyton's reply, when none came Brooke went on, her sure voice faltering as she spoke, "he meant everything to me, Peyton. Now I don't really care if I see either one of you again." Peyton stood stunned and motionless as she watched her best friend march briskly out the front door. Words failed her, her mind utterly blank and her heart shattered by her own treachery.

The tires of Lucas' truck crunched over the loose gravel of his driveway as he pulled up to his still house. The windows were blank and empty and no light came from within. Killing the engine, he heaved a light sigh and sat staring at nothing in particular, reliving the past fifteen minutes over in his head. An involuntary smile crept over his lips at the blissful memory of Peyton, her kiss, her touch, the gleam in her eyes as he confessed his feelings for her. At that moment, as far as he was concerned everything in the world was absolutely perfect. Lucas seemed to be acting on autopilot, as trained motions left his mind free to wonder on more pleasant things than the locking and unlocking of doors. He suddenly found himself standing alone in the dark square kitchen without knowing how he had gotten there. He stared blankly ahead of him at the refrigerator door, littered with many colorful magnets, news article clippings, and expired pizza coupons. Bowing forward and reaching for the long silver handle, Lucas pulled open the door of the refrigerator, casting a slender gash of light over the grimy kitchen tiles. "Hey," came a deep, soft voice from an unseen figure behind him. Lucas started and whipped around convulsively, slamming the solid door shut out of slight panic. Letting out the breath he had be holding, relief washed over him as Lucas realized that the speaker was only his little brother who had been sitting on the counter in the dark, watching him since he had entered the room. "Jeeze Nate, you scared the shit out of me," Lucas greeted, as he raised a hand over his pounding chest. Nathan did not smile; he merely sat quietly staring at his brother, debating with himself on whether or not he should continue with what he had planned to say next.

"I know," Nathan had decided that he could not turn a blind eye to his brother's pitiless actions. Lucas eyebrows creased gently as he gawked confusedly at the dark outline of Nathan who was gazing at him intently, as though gauging his reaction. "You know what?" Lucas finally asked after a moment of thought. "I know…" Nathan paused for a second, building up his courage to continue "…about you screwing around on Brooke," he finished. Lucas' mouth fell open in utter surprise, his eyes wide and his tongue incapable of forming a single syllable. Realizing the telltale signs of guilt he was displaying, Lucas quickly erected his composure before impersonating innocence. "What the hell are you talking about, Nathan?" Lucas asked in a slightly more brisk and angry tone than he intended. Nathan snorted loudly, shaking his head and letting his eyes fall to the floor, more out of disappointment than embarrassment. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" Nathan yelled suddenly, lifting his head to stare down Lucas. "I know you're fucking Peyton…behind Brooke's back!" Nathan added with cruel contempt and cold fury lacing every word. Lucas averted his eyes, his mind darting from excuse to excuse but failing to cling to one that would explain his behavior. Finally, he relented, pressing his palms against his brow, accepting his defeat.

"I…" Lucas stuttered, knowing full well that Nathan was waiting for an explanation at the very least. "I…" he tried again, unwilling to face his brother's hard, calculating stare. "Does Brooke know?" Lucas asked postponing the moment he would have to tell all. Nathan frowned heavily, his eyes misted and cold, almost dead. "Does it really matter?" he asked menacingly. Lucas turned to face Nathan, a look of hurt and sorrow etched over his features. Gazing pleading at his brother, as though to say 'of course it matters', Lucas raised his head to stare at Nathan. Nathan sighed dejectedly and shook his head no. "You can't treat people like this, Luke" he started in again, his temper rising, "you can't use people and then throw them away like fucking garbage! You don't even care that you're hurting these girls! You're hurting Brooke and you're gunna hurt Peyton too, once you've gotten whatever the hell it is that you want from her and you've finished with her!" "Hey!" for the first time in their conversation Lucas was angry, Nathan had touched a nerve and he was determined to correct this image Nathan had of him. "It's not like that!" Lucas shouted blatantly at his brother. Nathan laughed, a bitter, hollow, mirthless laugh, "yeah, okay, Luke. So you're telling me you're not just fucking your girlfriend's best friend for the same reasons you've screwed every other girl you've ever been with? You're telling me this is different?" "Yes!" Lucas stated forcefully, taking Nathan aback. "What do you love her? Is that it?" he questioned sarcastically, still gaping at Lucas. Lucas was silent. Nathan stared unbelieving at his brother. This was Lucas. Lucas didn't fall in love. Lucas couldn't fall in love. Nathan doubted that his brother had ever experienced anything greater than a general fondness for any of the girls he had ever dated. He was now regretting the abrupt harshness of his words, seeing that Lucas was truly remorseful about his actions, though the anger within him still boiled hotly so near the surface. Sliding roughly off of the counter and backing away down the shadowy hallway behind him, Nathan spoke softly, attempting to ease Lucas' distress, "you know I love you man, you're my brother…" He halted beneath the frame of the door, "but I really hate this person you've become." And with that, Nathan turned his back on Lucas and continued down the hall to his room.

The late afternoon had grown spiteful and blustery. Harsh winds tangled the many strong, aged branches of the riverside trees, ravaging the innumerable copper leaves clinging to each one of them. The azure sky was veiled by menacing grey clouds, a constant, heavy threat of a downpour. The cracked grey cement of the river court mirrored the dreary sky above. Lucas dribbled his faded, orange basketball, its use for many years and many games of one on one were all too evident, as most of the tread had been smoothed away by countless sweaty hands. Faint echoes reverberated in the open air as the ball hit the ground and returned to the hand from whence it had come. His graceful movements went unnoticed and unappreciated by the empty levels of bleachers surrounding the court. Fake to the right, step to the left, prep to the right, lay up. Lucas traveled through the familiar motions, never missing a beat. The game had always been his escape from the world, his sweetest sanctuary. No irksome thoughts of guilt or anger could seep into his conscious when he was here by the river, dribbling the ball to the hoop. There were no distractions, only the game, where the rules were so clear-cut; this is what you can do, and this is what you can't. Peyton stood half-hidden behind the trunk of a broad maple, simply watching his every elegant movement straining each taut, streamline muscle, but she was taken most of all at seeing the expression of pure and untainted joy upon his face as he played. She had been here many times, lingering in the dark shadows, silently watching him. It was her guiltiest pleasure.

Peyton struggled with herself for several lengthy minutes, gathering the courage and strength of will to reveal herself and invade upon the safety of Lucas' personal haven, which would inevitably darken his vulnerable exhilaration. She wished that she could remain on the brink of this moment in time forever, content to watch Lucas' complete serenity as he shot basket after basket, safe and happy, alone in his personal universe. As though to deride her impossible desire, Lucas stopped moving, tucked the ball under an arm and stared up at the chain link net, breathing heavily. Peyton stepped out of the shadows cast by the wavering tree branches above, abruptly announcing her presence. Lucas was utterly amazed at the unexpected intruder. He blinked dumbly for a moment before breaking out into an unabashed grin, eyes dazzling and bright. Dropping his basketball to the cracked pavement, he hurried over to the lanky girl standing on the edge of the court, her wild curls blowing across her face, concealing the involuntary smile painted over her lips. He stopped a few inches from her, afraid that if he actually touched her she would vanish, rather as a mirage torments the parched desert wanderer. Peyton pulled her worn leather jacket tighter around her lean shoulders, shuffling her feet and looking quite anxious. "Hey," Lucas finally greeted, his smile spreading further across his face as he lifted a sweaty hand to brush aside her golden curls. She forced herself to look up into his deep, innocent blue eyes, raw guilt and ache flickering behind her own. Taking in Peyton's pained expression, Lucas' own blind happiness faltered and inevitable dread grew in his mind instead.

"She knows," Peyton blurted out, "Brooke knows." Lucas felt his stomach clench stiffly, his chest constrict painfully, and his breathing become ever more labored. Seeing his startled reaction, Peyton reached out unconsciously, lightly touching his hunched shoulder in a comforting gesture. But realizing the stupidity of her actions, she pulled her hand back convulsively and stepped hurriedly away from him. Lucas gazed reproachfully at Peyton, more hurt by her distance and apparent indifference than anything else. "Peyton…I…we…" he stammered clumsily, somehow incapable of translating his feelings of fear and dread at the thought of losing her into comprehendible words. Peyton backed away slowly, clutching violently onto her jacket collar and shaking her head. "I'm sorry" she choked out, tears stinging her wide hazel eyes and seeping silently down her pallid cheeks. "I'm sorry" she whispered again before turning her back on Lucas, leaving him standing empty and silent, a miserable, solitary figure by the jagged shores of the river.

Heavy droplets of rain fell bleakly from the swollen grey clouds above, drenching Peyton's unruly curls within minutes as she made her despondent way home from the river court. Sheets of water sprayed her face as she trudged along down the narrow sidewalk, passing many disheveled houses and yards as she walked. Horrible, bubbling guilt consumed her dismal thoughts. She was trapped, or rather, simply drifting, afloat on an insubstantial wedge of hope of redemption in a stormy sea of remorse and shame. She had become so preoccupied with battling the pitiless waves of the storm that she barely realized she had arrived back at her apartment complex. Climbing the many stairs, she pulled out her unnecessarily crowded key chain and attempted to fit her house key into the lock, but the door remained securely locked. Bemused and slightly irritated, Peyton recounted the flights of stairs and the number of doors to her left and right. Finally deciding that she had not made a mistake, and was indeed standing outside the right apartment, Peyton hammered on the weathered wood of the door and waited for someone to answer. After a very prolonged moment, she knocked again, harder and louder than before. The doorknob rattled and was pulled away a few inches as the small space between the door and its frame widened. A dark, almond shaped eye peered out from behind the door. "Brooke, please let me in," Peyton begged exasperatedly. Though she was trying her best to be understanding and humble about the whole situation, Peyton felt that changing the lock on the front door seemed a bit overzealous and dramatic, even for Brooke Davis.

"Brooke, please. I'm sorry. I know I hurt you and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness and I'll take whatever other awful things you have to throw at me, but please just let me in," Peyton pleaded. She attempted to widen the gap by pushed heavily against the wood but was met by the resistance of a newly installed brass chain on the inside of the door. Brooke slammed her whole weight against the door, slamming it shut in Peyton's face. Stunned by the brutality of defeat, Peyton let her head fall solemnly to her shoes. On the other side of the door Brooke unfastened the heavy security chain and flung open the door with all her considerable strength and fury. Peyton flicked her head up in time to catch sight of Brooke's swollen, tearstained face and tousled chocolate hair before her head was whipped violently to the side, a hearty sting spreading over her cheek. "You're a backstabbing, two-faced bitch, Peyton, and you know it," Brooke shrieked indignantly, and once again slammed the door shut on her best friend, feeling a hollow sense of satisfaction. All at once, sobs shook Peyton's lean body as she collapsed miserably to the ground, a crumpled wretch upon the doormat.

Monday morning finally rolled around, bringing with it an unnatural, dreary fog. Thick drops of condensation slid silently down the glass panes of Lucas' bedroom window. Grunting softly in his sleep, Lucas flipped over, bringing his knees closer to his body, and continued dreaming. But five minutes later, he was rattled out of his light slumber by a thunderous pounding on the door, shortly followed by Nathan's abrupt invasion of his room. Nathan was immediately taken aback at the sight of the dismal, disheveled room. Open CD jackets and dirty laundry littered the carpet, while Lucas' sheets had been pulled half off his bed, exposing the bare mattress beneath. Lucas himself was unshaven and unwashed with dark circles underlining his bloodshot eyes. He lay tangled in the folds of his comforter, scruffy, unkempt, and in an obvious state of emotional despondency. Lucas squinted irritably up at the dark, towering figure standing next to his bed before burying his head under his flat pillow. "Luke, get your ass up," Nathan demanded, but without any real urgency in his voice. Truthfully, this was a side of his brother that he had never seen, the prospect that Lucas could so easily go to pieces was rather earth shattering for Nathan. Lucas had always been strong and unyielding to the point of seeming callous and heartless, yet here he was a proverbial shipwreck, 'well that's karma I suppose' Nathan thought sadly. He tried again, "Lucas come on, get up. You can't hide in your room and mope for the rest of your life," no answer followed. For the next ten minutes, Nathan continued his attempt at persuading Lucas to get up, get dressed, and go to class, but the only response he received was several indistinguishable grunting noises and one half-hearted kick from his inconsolable brother. Finally giving in, Nathan slouched out of the room, shoulders hunched in defeat.

Haley James had never been one for what others might call an exciting life. Youngest of six brothers and sisters, she had always assumed the role of the responsible, mature member of the family, always seeming to scrape all her older siblings out of more than one sticky situation. But when her closest sister Taylor had finally graduated high school, Haley was finally free and out of the tremendous shadows of her celebrated brothers and sisters. It was at this junction of possibilities that she took what may have been the most daring action in her life, trying out for the school's cheerleading squad. With a huge amount of luck, and a definite lack of other talent at the auditions, Haley James became a Ravens cheerleader. Her sudden and rather newfound popularity brought Haley within the cross hairs of Tree Hill high's social elite, introducing her to the school's resident party girls: Brooke Davis and Peyton Sawyer. Though the transition was slow and otherwise unnoticeable, Haley James drifted from her role as the shy, quiet, wet blanket she had once been forced to assume, and became ever more prominent and admired within the doldrums of the student body. Time passed too quickly, as time often does, and Haley found herself caught up in the irresistible flow, failing to notice how very far she had drifted from herself.

Haley sat hunched over a broad wooden table in the university library, notes and books lay scattered pell-mell over several feet of the table's surface. Many straggly ginger strands of hair fell casually from the loose bun on the back of her head as she scribbled furiously in a thick, rather cluttered notepad. Leaving her homework until the very last minute had become an unfortunate habit hers, and it was definitely having a negative effect on her grades. The night before had been a particularly difficult night for her to do any schoolwork, as Peyton had showed up at her door around 10:00 pm, eyes red and puffy, cheeks blotchy and tearstained, and soaking wet from the rain. Haley was able to deduce between Peyton's gushing and ranting that she and Brooke had had a terrible argument and that she, Peyton, now had no where else to go. And so, being the gracious, understanding friend that she was, Haley offered Peyton the couch in her living room for as long as she needed. Pushing the rim of her reading glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose, Haley reread the paragraph she had just finished writing, narrowing her eyes and becoming ever more displeased as she traveled down the page. She shook her head exasperatedly, knowing that this essay was not exactly a shining example of her academic potential, but it would have to do. "You look like you could use a serious caffeine rush," spoke a deep voice from just behind Haley's shoulder, startling her as she sat up straight in her seat and whipped her head around to see who had spoken. Nathan beamed at a very shell-shocked Haley as he shuffled over to sit down across the littered table from her, Haley's wide eyes never leaving his face as he moved.

"So let me guess you either stayed up all night or you just rolled out of bed," Nathan said, still smiling genuinely at the tousle haired girl sitting across from him. Taking in her full, untidy appearance, Nathan's eyes lingered affectionately on the ballpoint pen sticking out of her tangled bun and on the worn blue hoodie she wore, the stretched sleeves pulled up to her elbows. Feeling very self-conscious about her inattentive dress, not to mention the fact that the last time she had talked to Nathan she had ended up passed out drunk in his lap on the beach, Haley fidgeted nervously with the many scattered papers in front of her in a vain attempt to keep from looking up at him. Nathan simply grinned, taking notice of the slight blush that had crept into cheeks since his arrival. In truth, Nathan had been standing half-hidden behind a bookshelf watching Haley as she studied for the past ten minutes. Her baggy sweatshirt and loose hair, though strikingly different from the sleek, primped style he had so far seen her in, captured his interest and his thoughts were drawn irresistibly to how adorable she looked with her dark rimmed glasses and her nose buried in a book. Finally daring to look up at Nathan, Haley smiled awkwardly, biting her bottom lip and silently cursing herself for not taking the time to apply some mascara that morning. "So…good weekend?" she asked weakly after a moment of quiet thought. Nathan laughed loudly at the jest, breaking the uncomfortable ice between them at last.

"So is this like your alter ego?" he asked jokingly, referring to her "smart" appearance. Haley stuck her tongue out, and rolling her eyes sarcastically said, "Funny, but yes in fact. By day, I am Haley James: Tutor Girl, but by night, I am Bunny Begarde: crime-fighting hero. I have a cape and everything." Nathan let out a harsh bark of laughter, "there were a lot of inside jokes in there that I just don't get, and am probably not supposed to either, huh?" "Just go with it," Haley said, a broad grin painted over her lips as they continued talking. After nearly fifteen minutes of nervous flirting, Nathan glanced down at his watch and, noticing the time, stood abruptly from his seat, muttering profanities and reprimanding himself for losing track of time. "Listen Haley, I gotta go. My class started like five minutes ago," and with that Nathan snatched up his bag and started walking briskly toward a pair of large double doors. But halting unexpectedly, he spun around and yelled across the spacious room, "Hey Haley! Do you wanna go out with me tonight?" Haley's face flushed a brilliant shade of maroon at being asked out in front of fifty other people, all of whom now seemed to be listening in on the conversation, but a moment later she shouted back to him, "Yeah…okay!"

The pale October sun had finally fallen out of sight of the world of Tree Hill, leaving behind only empty darkness and threatening shadows. No glittering stars hung in the sky this night, as overhanging clouds seemed to have swallowed their shimmering beauty. Brooke sat alone and forlorn at the end of a bar in a grungy, college nightclub. Loud music throbbed the thick atmosphere of intoxicated coed hormones and over inflated egos. Every five minutes or so, a random, inebriated fraternity boy or football player would stumble up to where she sat sulking and make an unwise pass at the gorgeous brunette who, not bothering to give even a patronizing smile, would brush off the clumsy come-on as nothing more than a pestering fly that had fallen into a discount cologne bath. Swirling the lingering contents of her glass, Brooke stared resentfully at the melting ice cubes in her Tanqueray and tonic, irritated with the fact that there was so little gin left in which she could further drown her misery. She set the tall, hefty glass back down onto the highly polished wooden bar, the surface of which was uncomfortably sticky from spilled alcoholic drinks throughout the night. A slender, fragrant, female body slid jauntily onto the barstool next to Brooke, flipping her brilliantly red hair over her shoulder with an unnecessary flourish. Brooke grimaced painfully at the newcomer, sure that the presence of another dateless beauty could only attract more unwanted visitors. "You know, for a girl with a drink in her hand you sure do seem miserable" the red-haired girl smiled tantalizingly as she addressed a very morose Brooke. Brooke raised her eyebrows in a half-questioning, half-challenging manner as she replied "and you seem rather scandalously dressed for a Sesame Street character, Elmo." The girl laughed loudly, throwing back her sheet of fiery hair, and looking surreptitiously around to see how many men had taken notice of her as she did.

"You're Brooke, aren't you?" the redhead asked, an ill disguised smile of savory cunning alight in her eyes as she gazed at Brooke. Brooke nodded slowly, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. "How…" she began, but the unknown redhead cut across her, "I'm Rachel. We met the other night at the beach," Rachel answered the unfinished question with a partial grin. Brooke's mouth silently formed the letter "O" as comprehension swept swiftly over her. Unpleasant and unwelcome memories of that night sprung irresistibly into Brooke's mind, a hard, distasteful lump rising in her throat at the sudden emotion. Brooke blinked rapidly, attempting to fight back the welling of tears in her eyes. Rachel, spotting Brooke's distressing reaction to the simple statement, looked hurriedly down into her own lap in order to give her newfound drinking buddy a moment to erect some composure. Rummaging pointlessly through her large olive handbag, Rachel was immediately taken with what she thought to be a most brilliant idea. She pulled a small, dark something from the depths of her purse and hid it tightly in the palm of her hand. Gripping Brooke's shoulder in a comforting gesture, Rachel held Brooke's trembling hand in one of her own, whispering in her ear, "I'm sure you'll be feeling better before you know it." And with those seemingly empty words, Rachel disappeared into the darkness of the bar with one last flash of her fiery hair and was swallowed up by the crowd within seconds. Brooke was once again left alone and forgotten, but she was no longer brooding endlessly on life's disappointments, instead she sat contemplating the tiny glass vile Rachel had just handed to her, fearful and yet mystified at its prospects as she clutched it tightly within her fist.

"So tell me again, why exactly are we eating ice cream in the 40 degree weather?" Nathan questioned Haley with an inquiring grin as he licked his chocolate-vanilla swirl cone. Haley giggling gently before explaining, "Well, you see this way I get you nice and chilly, then I get to warm you up." "Oh, I see. This is all part of your diabolical plan is it?" Nathan teased as he wrapped an arm around Haley's shoulders and pulled her in closer to his body. Grinning sheepishly, Haley dipped her plastic spoon into her cup of butter pecan as they continued strolling down the lamp-lit pier. After a moment of comfortable silence, Nathan asked, in the most casual voice he could muster, "so, have you talked to Brooke lately?" Haley faltered for an instant, wondering why Nathan had decided to bring up the topic of one of her best friends when the conversation lagged during their first date. "I…well…no, actually. I haven't seen or spoken to her for a couple days…since the night of the bonfire actually." Nathan's stomach clenched uncomfortably at this news as Haley continued speaking, "she and Peyton got in a fight, a pretty bad one, and honestly, I'm a little worried." His heart plummeted and came to rest somewhere around his ankles.

"Wh-what did they argue about?" Nathan stammered, quite sure that he already knew the answer to the question and the reason for their apparent estrangement. Shrugging and shaking her head solemnly, Haley replied, "I don't know, but I'm a bit more concerned for Brooke because she's all alone now that Peyton's staying at my place." Nathan's eyes widened with shock, surely Brooke should not be left all alone in her apartment, not when something so traumatic had befallen her. "Maybe we should go see her," he offered, hoping that he sounded simply thoughtful and concerned. But Haley, glancing quickly up at him, caught the swift, hopeful expression lingering in his eyes. Pausing at the end of a long dock, which stretched far into the dark bay, the pair turned to look into each other's faces, attempting to decipher the hidden emotions behind the other's expression. The atmosphere between the two had suddenly become spitefully frigid. "I think we should head back," Haley suggested in a meek voice, shuffling her feet awkwardly. Nathan nodded silently, turned his back on the ocean and instead began walking towards the swarms of light and jostling crowds above them on the pier.

Nathan sat alone in his car, parked just outside a looming apartment complex. The silence of the lonely street was disturbed only by the trundling of passing vehicles in the night. He seemed torn with himself, half of him wanting to go forward with his plan, knowing that he would not be able to sleep peacefully if he did not go and check up on Brooke, but the other half of him felt an enormous amount of trepidation in furthering the situation. And so, there he sat, torn and indecisive, scratching the back of his neck while continuing his internal debate. After a moment, Nathan let out a heavy sigh of finality and forced open his car door, heaving himself out of the driver's seat, resolved that he should show more compassion for this poor, broken girl than his brother had so far done. He rapped lightly on Brooke's door, his stomach twisting into tight knots as he waited for a reply. After a minute without an answer, he knocked again, calling through the door "Brooke? Are you home? It's Nathan, Nathan Scott," still no voice greeted him. Grasping the brass doorknob, determined that he should exhaust every possible means of checking whether or not she really was out for the night, Nathan turned the shining knob, and to his utter surprise the door swung open with a whining creak, revealing the gloomy, apartment sitting room.

"Brooke?" Nathan called out into the stifling darkness, making his way further into the room. Brooke sat curled in the grey armchair in the corner, clutching a small, violet throw pillow tightly to her chest. Her eyes were closed and half of her face was covered by her sleek chocolate hair. Nathan drew closer to where she slept, taking notice of her furrowed brows and the undeniable tear tracks staining her smooth cheeks. Brooke let out a small whimper, her slumber disturbed and distressed. Lifting a broad, comforting hand to smooth her dark hair, Nathan found himself wanting nothing more than to take Brooke's sleeping form and hold her tightly in his arms, easing away all the pain she had built up inside of her. Brooke woke with a start, her eyes suddenly wide and fearful as she caught sight of the dark figure hovering above her. Hurriedly scrambling into a sitting position, she knocked away Nathan's outstretched hand. Confusion and panic rising rapidly, she blinked furiously for a few moments, attempting to clear her blurry vision. "Nathan?" Brooke's voice was raspy and choked as she spoke, "what the hell are you doing here?" "I just wanted to see if you were doing alright," Nathan attempted to explain, though his actions now seemed horribly ill advised and unplanned. He could feel a hot blush rising in his face as he stared at he confused expression. "Oh, right," Brooke's said in a sullen, embarrassed voice. Did everyone know about Lucas and Peyton's indiscretions?

"So, how are you feeling?" Nathan asked tentatively, worried that a single wrong word could potentially set her off. Brooke shrugged noncommittally, letting her chin fall to her chest to avoid looking up at Nathan's patronizing expression. "Hey," he said softly, lifting her face up to meet his. Brooke gazed hurtfully into Nathan's deep blue eyes, eyes that were so familiar. She could feel the sting of tears welling up again, but was unable to look away from his striking face, fixed in an expression of heartfelt understanding. Nathan stared intently back at her. She was very beautiful, even when her eyes were glassy and swimming with uncried tears. There bodies drew closer. Resistance was no longer a possibility. Nathan ran his clever fingers through her chocolate locks, bringing her face nearer to his. After a moment of pungent anticipation, Brooke's lips slanted gently over Nathan's. Blistering heat filled the little space left between them as Nathan pressed his lips firmly against Brooke's, indulging in the passionate moment. Brooke let out a sigh of delight as their tongues met for the first time, battling and twisting in an ornate rhythm. Releasing her tight grasp on Nathan's broad, muscular shoulders, she instead snaked her arms around his straining neck, pulling him closer and eliminated any space left between them. Nathan was becoming more and more aroused, aware of nothing around him except for Brooke, her desperate touch, her longing kiss, her quivering body beneath his. But then a vivid, blinding vision flashed in his mind as though he had been hit hard on the back of the head and instead of stars or twittering birds springing into life before his eyes, he saw the joyous, laughing face of Haley, her ginger hair flying as she danced around the bonfire.

And suddenly the passion that had filled him a moment before subsided and he became fully aware of the hopeless situation before him. His hands stopped moving over Brook's writhing body and his lips parted from her creamy neck. Brooke looked startled at his sudden detachment and immediately released her hold upon him, staring accusingly at his guilty face. "I'm sorry Brooke," Nathan whispered, not daring to meet her eyes as he apologized. "It's just…" he paused, not wanting to reveal the reason behind the abruptness of his cold feet. "…Haley," the word was barely audible as it slipped from his lips. With a sharp intake of breath, Brooke pushed Nathan's body off her with freshly renewed fury. "I want you to leave" she spat in a calm but venomous voice. "Brooke…" Nathan pleaded, hoping to communicate to her how desperately sorry he really felt. "GET OUT!" Brooke shrieked loudly, pointing directly at her front door, her tone now icy and cutting. Hanging his head sorrowfully, Nathan shuffled in the direction of her outstretched finger, slinking miserably out the door and into the night. Brooke was shaking uncontrollably. Her head felt light and her knees like wet noodles. Her heart pounded violently and her breathing came in painful wheezes. She scanned the room, searching for something but not really seeing anything. Her eyes fell upon the shining black leather of her purse, the contents of which were scattered over the coffee table. The tiny vile of white powder lay innocently amongst the other trivial debris, offering sweet escape.


End file.
